The Game of Death
by Glenstorm
Summary: A tradegy on a landing platform leads to a dangerous fight for survival.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Game of Death

**Author: **Glenstorm

**Rating: **K+

**Characters: **Qui/Obi

**Summary: **Ummm... You'll have to read it to find out.

**Category: **Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

**AN: **This is the second story I ever wrote. I don't quite know where this is going yet or how we're going to get there. I'm just going to take this one step at a time, but I reckon its going to be a long ride.

**Chapter One**

Qui-Gon Jinn cracked open one eye lid. His room was still dim with the last vestiges of the night, but by now a faint glow was painting the far wall in a warm golden light.

Dawn. The start of a new day.

The Jedi stretched his tall frame, grunting as several joints popped and cracked

Qui-Gon chuckled. _Getting older,_ he thought wryly, before rolling out of bed to start his morning routine. But barely had he gone two steps towards the 'fresher when noises from the kitchen drew him to a surprised halt. It seemed that one of his morning duties would not be necessary today.

His apprentice was already awake.

Qui-Gon stepped out into the main living area and smiled at the sight of his Padawan puttering about the kitchen, apparently gathering breakfast.

"Could it be," Qui-Gon teased, "that the notorious Obi-Wan Kenobi awakens before sunrise? Should I contact the High Council at once?"

Obi-Wan turned, blue-green eyes sparkling with a merriment that completely ruined his mock glare. "Is there a problem, Master?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Qui-Gon smiled at the familiar stance before answering. "Yes, its only just dawn and you're up and about," he retorted. "Is there a Sith Lord in your room?"

Qui-Gon only just ducked the cushion that came flying at him from behind.

"I doubt if you would sleep much better, Master," Obi-Wan resumed his tasks in the kitchen as if he had never done such a thing as aim a cushion at his Master's head, "considering what day it is."

Qui-Gon sobered at once. Of course he remembered what day it was. This was the day that his Obi-Wan took one step nearer to becoming a Knight. It was the day he set off on his first solo mission.

Just a simple escort duty, the usual task reserved for Padawans on their first mission alone, but quite an important one.

Increasing in pirate activity on the space lanes meant travellers grew nervous. So nervous, it seemed, that a certain Senator Belar had requested a Jedi presence to accompany him back to his homeworld.

Enter his Padawan.

Ever serious about his duty, Obi-Wan had spent most of the previous evening gathering all the information he could on Senator Belar, along with every conceivable threat between here and their destination.

This activity had continued until even Qui-Gon decided enough was enough and insisted that his Padawan get some food and rest.

"You should make use of the shower and change, Master," Obi-Wan's voice drew him from his reverie. "I'll get our breakfast ready."

"Although," he tilted his head thoughtfully as he picked up the kettle, "I really ought make you do it this morning. You'll need the practice unless you can find some other poor soul prepared to get your breakfast ready over the next week in my absence."

"With your dubious culinary skills, Padawan, it would be a welcome relief."

Another cushion mysteriously flew in Qui-Gon's direction.

"For that," Obi-Wan said. "I should contact Master Yoda. A week on his stews should give you a healthy appreciation for what you have."

Qui-Gon folded his arms. "I lived for weeks on Master Yoda's stews once, Padawan, as you should well remember."

"Then you should agree more fully with what I'm saying."

Qui-Gon laughed and conceded the point. "That I do, Padawan," he said as he disappeared back into his room. "That I do."

An hour later both Master and Padawan stood on the windswept landing platform that accommodated Senator Belar's transport.

As they waited for the Senator to arrive, Qui-Gon cast an eye over his apprentice. To every one else Obi-Wan would seem calm and composed--even a little intimidating with his arms tucked into the sleeves of his robe and the heavy frown of concentration between his brows.

But Qui-Gon knew better. He could feel the undercurrents of the Force and knew how nervous his Padawan was. Of course, even without the Force, he knew Obi-Wan.

It was not so much the fact of leaving his Master's side that would make him nervous. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been separated many times on previous missions and Jedi were taught from an early age to be independent. But it was the first time the sole responsibility of a mission had rested squarely on the twenty-one year old's shoulders, and Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan would worry greatly about getting everything right, about not letting Qui-Gon down. And if anything went wrong Obi-Wan would blame himself.

Qui-Gon gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Obi-Wan worried far too much for his taste. He sometimes had too little regard for his own worth and abilities. Qui-Gon remembered how shocked his Padawan had been when the Council had suggested that he was ready for his first mission--

Qui-Gon caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. An air taxi was approaching at a fast clip, winging its way towards the landing platform. The Senator was arriving.

Obi-Wan drew a long, steadying breath.

"Ready Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied, squaring his shoulders. "Though, I just can't help feeling that there's something amiss."

"Nervous perchance, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's lips quirked teasingly.

Obi-Wan turned his gaze away from the scar-faced mechanic he had been observing, arching an eyebrow at his Master. "Possibly."

Qui-Gon laughed, but despite his teasing he did respect his Padawan's instincts. He did not sense that anything was amiss himself, but he was not particularly skilled in prescience. His was the Here and Now.

Reaching out he laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Just be on your guard and do your best, my Padawan, then not too much can go wrong." he gave the tense shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "I have every faith in you."

Obi-Wan visibly relaxed under the praise. He looked up at Qui-Gon, his ever changing eyes awash with gratitude. "Thank-you," he said softly.

The moment was broken when the air taxi landed and the Senator disembarked with several of his aides in tow.  
Qui-Gon dropped his hand from Obi-Wan's shoulder and tucked it back into his sleeve, morphing back into the impassive Jedi Master as Senator Belar spied them and strode over, fine robes flowing gracefully. "Greetings, Jedi," he said as he came before them.

Both Jedi bowed. That done, Qui-Gon stepped back to allow Obi-Wan control of the meeting.

"Greetings, Senator Belar," Obi-Wan began graciously. "I am Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi and this is my mentor, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Ah , yes, Padawan Kenobi," Belar said after acknowledging Qui-Gon. "You are the Jedi who is to escort me back to my homeworld, yes?"

"That is correct, Senator," Obi-Wan answered.

"Good," the Senator nodded approvingly, seemingly unconcerned by Obi-Wan's young age. "I for one will feel better to have you around. All this recent pirate activity has me a little edgy to say the least"

Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "I will do everything in my power to serve and protect you, Senator."

Belar laughed, pleased. "Very well, I am ready to leave when ever you are, Jedi Kenobi." He turned and nodded to Qui-Gon. "Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon bowed in return as the Senator walked away having watched the proceedings with approval. He returned to his Padawan's side as Obi-Wan shouldered his pack.

"May the Force be with you, Padawan," he said by way of farewell, meaning it with all his heart.

Obi-Wan gave him a quick smile, his mind already on the task ahead. "May the Force be with you, too, Master." He then turned and walked away, straight and tall and without hesitation.

Qui-Gon watched him go, heart full of conflicting emotions. Proud but sad. Happy but aching. He wondered distantly if this was how a parent felt when their children took their first steps into the world without them. He was going to miss Obi-Wan sorely and the feeling only served to remind him of the long, lonely years ahead when Obi-Wan would need him no longer and leave his side for good

But that was the way of things, Qui-Gon reminded himself. And it couldn't be changed. He would have to shed his selfish attachments, no matter how much he wanted this time to last, and let Obi-Wan go on to find his own path without him.

Obi-Wan's Knighting was an event Qui-Gon both looked forward to and dreaded. And this day drew it one step nearer.

By now Obi-Wan had mounted the ship's ramp and in a few strides he had disappeared from Qui-Gon's sight. The last of the Senator's aides had followed and the ramp began retract.

With a sigh Qui-Gon turned to leave. Time to return to the Temple and the duties that waited for him.

He had not gone two steps when a heart wrenching cry ripped through his mind.

_MASTER!_

_Obi-Wan?! _

But no answer came back. The bond had become suddenly muted. Dim and clouded. Obi-Wan was still there, Qui-Gon could tell that in a heartbeat, but the sudden fogginess told him that something was very wrong.

His Padawan was unconscious.

The Jedi Master spun round, lightsaber hilt flying to his hand as he charged back towards the docked ship--just in time to see the entire vessel explode into a searing mass of destruction..

Thunder assaulted his ears, shaking the very ground beneath his feet. The sudden onslaught of heat and light knocked him backwards, searing his disbelieving eyes. But he could not close them. Could not shut out what was unfolding before him. The sight would be burned into his mind's eye forever.

Hunks of red hot metal screamed through the air like the molten rain of hell. But nothing screamed louder than Qui-Gon's heart in that moment as all of his connections to Obi-Wan suddenly snapped and fell dead. Not even the buzz of unconsciousness remained with him.

Qui-Gon staggered, wavering on his feet as if the world had collapsed. Pain and emptiness was all he knew.

Another explosion rocked the platform, completely destroying what little remained of the Senator's ship. Fresh waves of heat and shrapnel sheared through everything in the vicinity.

A large hunk of the super heated metal struck the dazed and staggering Master in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground with the force of a speeding swoop . His head impacted violently with the permacrete and the whole nightmarish world began to fade.

The last thing Qui-Gon remembered before unconsciousness took him was the sight of the gaping hole in the landing platform. A hole where the Senator's ship had once stood containing the most precious thing in his life.

_Obi-Wan..…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The smell of bacta was the first thing that struck Qui-Gon as he woke. That alone told him that he was in the Healer's wing. Again.

Though he couldn't recall the reason for being here yet. The memory danced away from him, refusing to be captured by his waking thoughts. But his left shoulder was sore and he had a splitting headache. A knot at the back of his skull throbbed unmercifully.

Well, what ever had happened, he was here and alive at least, that was the important thing. His memory would come to him in its own time. He wouldn't waste time worrying about it.

With a mental sigh Qui-Gon began to wade through his unconsciousness towards the light of the waking world. No doubt he would find a certain starving and sleep deprived Padawan sitting by his bedside as he always did.

He found it odd that he could not sense Obi-Wan as he woke. His mind was strangely. . . empty but Qui-Gon could put that down to the fact that he did not yet know the extent of his injuries. He might be weaker than he thought.

Not that he would let the healers know that.

Finally, fighting against the lead weights that seemed to want to hold them closed, he managed to open his eyes and found himself looking up at the familiar view of a stark white ceiling.

He gave a slight smile. Nothing ever changed here. The healers really ought to think about repainting, it did get tedious waking up to the same plain white tiles.

But that was not the important thing at the moment.

Slowly Qui-Gon turned his head to the side, letting his eyes fall to the seat next to the bed.

And froze. The faint smile he had been forming falling unused on his lips.

For the chair was empty.

Instead his eyes came to rest on those of the ward's head healer standing just to the side.

"Talan?"

The healer gave a sad smile. "Qui-Gon. How are you feeling?"

"Sore. But otherwise I'm fine." That said Qui-Gon let his eyes fall once more to the empty chair. "Where's Obi-Wan? Did you finally resort to sedating him this time? Or did you have Mace lock him in our quarters?"

The healer's expression faltered. "Qui-Gon?"

"Obi-Wan. You must have done something drastic for him not to be here—" Qui-Gon cut himself off as he saw the healer sink into the vacant seat and place a shaky hand over his mouth. "Talan, what's wrong?"

"Qui-Gon, what," the healer swallowed, "what is the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

Qui-Gon frowned at the question but started to answer. Doing his best to gather together the pieces of his ragged memory, he closed his eyes. "I was accompanying Obi-Wan to the landing platform. We were waiting for the Senator to arrive. . ." Qui-Gon trailed off as the memories started to come back more easily. He remembered the waiting, about teasing Obi-Wan for his nerves and regretting how close his Padawan was to taking his Trails. He remembered Senator Belar and their meeting, remembered exchanging the parting words with Obi-Wan and watching until he too had disappeared aboard the transport before turning and walking away himself.

And then. . .

Then...

_Master!_

Qui-Gon's memory ignited. Bursting into flames behind the darkness of his eyes. He was turning. Running. The ground shook beneath his lurching feet. Pain, heat and anguish was all he could feel. Explosions, light and fire were all he could see.

_Obi-Wan!_

Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open. He found himself unable to breathe as if all the air was sucked from the room. , his senses flailed out wildly for his Padawan. But there was nothing. Just a yawning emptiness in his mind where Obi-Wan had once been.

Talan saw the flames branded in Qui-Gon's eyes and answered the anguished gaze now boring into his own. "There was a bomb," he said. "No one yet knows the reason for the attack, but an explosive was planted somewhere upon the senator's transport. The whole ship was destroyed. There-" the voice faltered. "There were no survivors."

Qui-Gon buried his face in his hands, denying with his very being what he was hearing and remembering. Trying repeatedly to get past the emptiness he felt to reach his Padawan. He had to be there somewhere. Had to be!

But the healer kept up his nightmare speech. And Qui-Gon had not the strength to shut him out. Talan gathered his shaky composure. "You were found near the wreckage, unconscious and badly burned. Once it was safe to move you you were brought back here to the Temple. I'm sorry, Qui-Gon."

He reached into his robe and withdrew a blackened object. "This was all that could be found. Understand that many were burned beyond recognition, few have been identified. But there was only one Jedi aboard." Talan placed the object upon the bedside table. "I think you should have this."

Qui-Gon stared at the object with numb eyes.

It was the charred remains of a lightsaber.

Tears began to slide down Qui-Gon's face. Raw and unhindered. With a trembling hand he lifted the scorched cylinder.

The metal was cold beneath his fingertips as he gently wiped away some of the soot marring the once shiny surface. The ministrations confirmed what he already knew. Qui-Gon choked back a sob as the confirmation was burned into his heart.

The saber was Obi-Wan's. If he were blind he would know it.

Qui-Gon clutched the blackened hilt to his constricted chest and wrapped his numb fingers about it. The very centre of his world was gone and now the rest of it was collapsing into the vacuum that it had created. His body began to tremble from the force of the shock.

Forgotten, Talan began to retreat, there was nothing more he could say or do that would help. The Master now needed time to come to terms with what had happened. Time and space.

Turning he walked from the room, leaving Qui-Gon alone with his grief and all that remained of his Padawan.

Three days went by but Qui-Gon barely noticed, he just lay staring at the floor or the wall with no real awareness of the passage of time.

He wasn't even aware that his body was healing against his will. But by the fourth day the healers declared that he was well enough to leave their care.

But Qui-Gon did not wish to leave. He did not want to face the Temple outside. The memories it held. The sympathetic looks.

Even the healer's wing seemed to hold too many memories.

Qui-Gon had steadfastly kept his gaze away from the empty chair beside his bed. If he looked at it he feared he would crack and lose the mask of composure he had so struggled to build over these past days. He would not let them see him brake down again.

And if he couldn't face a chair, how could he return to their— to his quarters.

At first the healers relented out of sympathy but as the days rolled on they decided that enough was enough and that it was time Qui-Gon faced the world outside. Accepting his loss like any Jedi would. There was no death.

And so Qui-Gon now faced the doors that would release him into the Temple beyond.

Even now he hesitated. His trembling palm hovering uncertainly over the lock. But he could not put it off any longer. As the healers had said, he was a Jedi. It was time to start acting like one.

Drawing a deep breath into reluctant lungs, Qui-Gon palmed the door open. And with his entire being screaming beneath a skin of composure he stepped into the passageway beyond.

It was mid-afternoon and the Temple corridors were busy. Everything looked familiar and as it should. Except to Qui-Gon's eyes nothing would ever be the same again. All the beauty was diminished, the soul taken away.

He resented the normality around him. How dare life go on as if nothing had happened. As if Obi-Wan had not been stolen away from him in a pointless attack. But of course it did no matter what he wished.

Knights strolled by going about their daily business. Carefree younglings rushed past on the way to their next classes, laughing and gaming joyfully, evading for the moment the stern looks of their Masters.

And it seemed that every where he looked, every place he saw held some memory of Obi-Wan. There. A window where they had once stood together, watching the sun set after surviving a particularly dangerous mission, just savouring the gift of being alive. And there. A place where Obi-Wan had greeted him after he had been away on a long solo assignment.

He could almost see his Padawan there now. Blue-green eyes lit with that understated joy at seeing his Master safely returned.

So strong was that sight in Qui-Gon's mind that every thing else seemed to fade away for a moment and he found himself taking an unconscious step forward—

"Master Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon flinched and blinked. Trembling he came back to himself. His hungry sight cleared and the space before him was as cold and empty as it had ever been. His Padawan was not there. And never would be again.

Qui-Gon could take it no longer. Ignoring the speaker and regardless of the stares he drew, he pulled his hood down over his face so that it prevented him from seeing anything but the ground upon which he forced his feet to walk.

Over the next days Qui-Gon haunted the Temple like a lost spirit. Day and night.

Pointless and meaningless hours spent in blank, empty existence. Minute after minute in which he could find nothing to do but grieve for Obi-Wan and count off the minutes that he had spent without him.

Existing, merely existing. Mourning so deeply he was barely taking care of himself

He didn't dare return to his quarters. Or sleep. Flames lurked behind his closed lids waiting to strike. And a voice, crying out for him until it was cut dead. A voice he would have given his own life to save.

A voice he had failed. And because of that he would never hear it again.

Why had he not foreseen something? Done something different. Kept Obi-Wan back for a moment longer. Run faster.

He tortured himself ruthlessly with these questions. Thrusting himself onto the sharpened knife of his own guilt, because it was preferable to all the other shards of pain he was feeling.

Worst of all was that Obi-Wan had known. His Padawan had told him that he felt something was amiss. But he had not really paid attention. He had still let him go. Now Obi-Wan was dead, his body reduced to ash and dust. Like Qui-Gon's own heart. Both lost to the same inferno.

A choked sob escaped his throat. Qui-Gon had never needed anything as much as he needed Obi-Wan, here, now. But he was not there.

Another sob hitched in Qui-Gon's throat as he remembered the excruciating moment when he had felt his Padawan's life-force torn from him, the harsh rupturing of their bond, the emptiness that had replaced the profound connection he and Obi-Wan had shared. Gone. Forever.

And so Qui-Gon wandered. Existing. Merely existing and not caring where he ended up.

Finally in an hour close to dawn, two days since he had left the healers, Qui-Gon found himself standing next to a long arched window overlooking the city below. Wearily he leaned against it, distantly welcoming the cool glass against his tired face. Outside the endless Coruscant traffic streamed past and the hypnotic lights mesmerized his hollowed eyes.

Maybe it was his weariness that made him less alert or maybe it was the numb void he had fallen into. But for whatever reason, the soft touch to his shoulder made him start. He had not been aware of any approach.

"Qui-Gon?"

Mace's voice.

Qui-Gon kept his eyes on the view outside, hoping the other Master would take the hint and leave. He did not want company.

No such luck.

"Qui-Gon." The tone gained a bite of command.

Slowly Qui-Gon turned his gaze on the council member. Lifeless eyes settled on the dark face half hidden by shadows.

Whatever Mace had expected, what he actually saw appeared to shock him. "You look terrible."

Qui-Gon's smile was bitter. "Surprised?"

Mace chose not to answer. Instead he moved to the window so he could look out with Qui-Gon. "I am sorry about Obi-Wan," he said after a moment. "His death came as a great shock and is a terrible loss to the Jedi. I know Yoda always saw a great deal in him. He will be sorely missed."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes to shield against the tears. Sorely missed? Was that all? When Qui-Gon had a gaping wound inside him so big he wasn't sure he could survive it.

Mace watched him carefully. "Have you been back to your quarters since you left the healer's wing."

"No."

"Slept?"

"No."

Mace sighed. "You need to rest, Qui-Gon. The Council is very concerned for your well being. Go back to your quarters."

Qui-Gon wanted to retort that he didn't care what the council thought. "I can't—"

"Why?" Mace pried. "Because it will remind you of Obi-Wan?"

Heart laid bare, Qui-Gon hung his head and Mace had his answer.

"Then go back and remember, Qui-Gon. You can't go on like this. I'm sure Obi-Wan would not want you to look back in pain. He would not want to see you like this. Wandering the halls gnawing on your grief and regret. He would want you to be happy."

Anger flared inside Qui-Gon and he wanted to snap back, to ask how he could possibly be happy now that Obi-Wan was gone.

But Mace did not allow him to start. "Go home, Qui-Gon," he ordered. "You cannot run forever." With that he strode smartly away before Qui-Gon could react.

Hours later Qui-Gon found that his treacherous feet had indeed brought him home to his quarters. He stopped and stared at the door for a long time. He was not ready to enter.

He was angry at Mace for insisting that he return. He could not take the emptiness he would find within. Without Obi-Wan the rooms would be just a shell, robbed of life.

But underneath all the broiling emotion he knew the Council Member was right.

He could not run forever.

Steeling his heart, Qui-Gon opened the door.

The morning sun was streaming though the far window, bathing everything in what should have been a warm, welcoming light. But to Qui-Gon it was a harsh light, a mocking light, there to highlight everything he did not wish to see with a cruel sharpness.

At this point he almost retreated. Almost turned and left. But somehow he stopped himself.

Gathering the courage that had seen him through a thousand hardships Qui-Gon stepped inside.

And instantly regretted it.

The sight was worse than he had ever imagined.

Nine years of memories with Obi-Wan seemed to seep from the very pores of the room. Memories of tears and laughter, of welcome and farewell, of joys and sorrows all playing out in a terrible dance before his mind's eye.

And worst of all he realised that he had not cleared up after the morning that they had left for the transport. The plates from their breakfast still stood upon the table. The last breakfast Obi-Wan had ever made. Two mugs were still set out by the kettle. And there on the floor lay two cushions.

The very cushions that Obi-Wan had thrown at him on the morning of their parting.

Qui-Gon began to shake. He missed his Padawan so much it physically hurt.

He was glad of the tears that now blurred his vision. Every gleaming shard of his shattered soul bleeding from his eyes to block out the sight that was killing him as surely as if someone had driven a saber through his heart.

The shaking got worst until he lost the last shred of control he had fought for and he collapsed to his knees upon the floor. Obi-Wan's last cry echoed through him. Calling for him. And he would never get there.

_Master._

_Master._

It was too much to bare and he began to keen his loss to the emptiness.

Anyone listening to those raw cries would not have thought they listened to the voice of a Jedi Master or the voice of a hardened warrior, but rather to that of a broken man.

A broken man who had forever lost his best friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Chaper Three

Two weeks passed.

No one was caught in association with the bombing of Senator Belar's transport. And no reason for it could be found.

Belar's family were grieving and angry over the lack of progress in bringing the people responsible to justice. As a last resort they appealed to the Jedi for help in the investigations. That, along with the death of Obi-Wan, gave the Council reason enough to send a couple of Jedi to help the baffled security officers.

Qui-Gon was not asked to join the team. The Council decided that he was too emotionally fragile and involved in the situation to be of any help. And they also feared what might happen if Master Jinn was the one to catch the perpetrators.

As for Qui-Gon himself he did not give them much of an argument over it.

He found it difficult enough to keep waking up each morning. To get out of bed and face another day alone.

His days were spent in the sparring rooms, channeling all his energies into his training so that it would distract him from his aching loss. He exhausted himself so he wouldn't have to feel, wouldn't have to think, wouldn't have to dream. If he did he ran the risk of dreaming that Obi-Wan was still alive, and that would be far worse than any nightmare of his death. For he would wake up and be hit afresh with the cruelty of the real world.

And despite what Mace had said, on most nights he was still to be found wandering the halls alone. He rarely returned to his quarters and when he did it was only out of necessity. He would go straight to his own room, never lingering in the living area.

The door to Obi-Wan's room remained firmly closed.

The Council kept a close eye on him, at a loss as how to ease his pain. Once, quite foolishly they had suggested that Qui-Gon think about taking another apprentice. There were lots of promising candidates that needed a good Master, they had argued. It might do him good to focus on the future and not dwell any more on the past.

The results of that suggestion had been ugly to say the least. Qui-Gon would not take another Padawan as long as he lived.

He had pretty much avoided contact with them ever since.

Until one evening after another grueling day in the sparring rooms Qui-Gon found himself in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The sound of the water and the rustle of leaves always seemed to soothe him somewhat. Before he had lost Obi-Wan that was. But he hoped that it would still have that same power now.

It seemed like forever and a day since Obi-Wan had last walked by his side and yet his grief was still as raw as if it had happened yesterday.

Lowering his hood he knelt beside one of the pools and stared at the water. The spray of a nearby fall was cool on his tired face so he decided to tarry awhile.

By and by he found himself focusing on the flow of the water. Its movement seemed to strike him some how, carrying along his thought in its endless current.

So like the Force.

Jedi had always believed that life came from the Force and when it was finished each soul returned there, strengthening the flow and adding to its beauty.

There was no death only the Force, as the saying went.

That was what he had been taught.

But that was not how it had turned out.

There was nothing there. The Force was as empty as if Obi-Wan had never been. Leaving him only with memories to prove that he had ever existed.

He felt as if the Force had betrayed him and all that he believed in.

Maybe that was why he could not let go of his grief like he should. Could not even begin to move on. The emptiness was gnawing at him like a ravening beast until he feared it would never stop. Not until he was consumed.

Despairing, Qui-Gon dropped his head into his hands.

"Find comfort in the water, do you?" came a familiar voice.

Qui-Gon froze.

_Not now!_

"Know I'm here you do, so acknowledge me you might as well."

With an inward groan Qui-Gon raised his head. "Master Yoda," he greeted stiffly.

The old Master peered up at him carefully before grunting. "Unwell you look, my old Padawan."

Qui-Gon drew a breath, wishing for all the world that he had never come here. "I'm just . . . tired." The last word was uttered almost in a whisper. Qui-Gon knew that it was inadequate for how he really felt. No words could express how he felt now that Obi-Wan was gone. Now that he was alone.

Silently Yoda stumped over to sit beside Qui-Gon. "Missing Obi-Wan you are." It was not a question.

Qui-Gon swallowed, trust Yoda to pry in to his feelings. "Yes."

Yoda's ears drooped. "Miss him we all do. But you most of all, I think. Special bond you had."

Qui-Gon lowered his head, resigning himself. "I feel like some vital part of me has perished and I am forever half of what I was without it."

"Learn to let go you must, Qui-Gon, or destroy you it will. Two weeks since the explosion it has been and cling to your grief you still do."

_Two weeks, seven hours and ten minutes to be exact._ He doubted if Yoda would want to know it to the second.

Yoda laid one three fingered claw on Qui-Gon's arm. "At peace now he will be, Qui-Gon. With the Force. Time to start healing it is."

A cold shudder ran through Qui-Gon and he felt the first stirrings of anger. His legendary patience was worn thin. He was fed up with people telling him to move on, to let go of Obi-Wan. He just couldn't do it. And before he could stop himself harsh words were pouring from his mouth.

"How can I possibly begin to heal?!" he asked, voice rising dangerously. "Obi-Wan is gone! I cannot even feel his presence there in the Force. It has taken him from me completely!" His eyes pierced Yoda. "If there is no death why can I not feel him there?!"

"Think do you that the Force behaves how we wish?" Yoda said calmly, unruffled by the outburst.

Qui-Gon sagged, anger draining away as fast as it had come leaving him feeling exhausted and used up. "He is completely gone from me, Master," he whispered. "I am . . . lost."

"If remember him you do, gone from you he will never be."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, fighting back a tide of emotions. He wanted Yoda to leave so he could release the tears that wanted to fall.

"But what I say matters not, my Padawan," Yoda continued. "Only you can find the peace to go on." Qui-Gon felt the ancient Master's considering regard. "Maybe a mission, do you good it would. Good distraction it would be."

Qui-Gon turned pained eyes on the little Master.

Yoda sighed. "Up to you it is, Qui-Gon. When ready you are, mission we will have." Yoda struggled to his feet. "For now, leave you here, I will. I hope some peace you will find." With that the ancient little Master limped away leaving Qui-Gon to himself.

For a long while he stayed by the sparkling pool but no peace found him.

Obi-Wan's memorial service was held exactly one month after the attack.

Qui-Gon had no idea how he had survived these past weeks. But here he was. Still breathing.

Qui-Gon looked at those gathered around him. All of Obi-Wan's friends and teachers here to pay their last respects to his Padawan. Many were in groups. Some were crying. Others were laughing at some memory.

Qui-Gon stood apart from them all, hood drawn over his features so that they wouldn't have to see the drawn mask that his face had become. He scared himself sometimes if he looked in the mirror. The extra lines and silver threads in his beard all carved out and bleached by sorrow's merciless hand.

The others stayed away from him, respecting his drawn hood as a sign for privacy, and for that he was eternally grateful.

When the service started each of those present began to step forward in turn to say something for Obi-Wan.

There was no body to mourn. It had already been burned without ceremony. Instead the focus of the speakers was on the charred hilt of a lightsaber, resting in honour upon a pedestal at the center of the room.

Some spoke of their memories, some of what they would miss. Others gave amusing anecdotes that had the rest of the congregation laughing through their tears. And even in the midst of his grief Qui-Gon found his withered heart being touched by the sight of so many who had loved Obi-Wan, all rejoicing in his life and grieving over his death. And for a brief moment he didn't feel so alone.

But Qui-Gon himself did not step forward. He couldn't. What ever he said about Obi-Wan would never be enough. He would be leaving so much more out. And that didn't seem right.

An hour later and the number of speakers dwindled. The last one signaled the end of the service and shortly after and the room began to empty, the occupants walking away in thoughtful silence until Qui-Gon was the only one left.

Finally alone he moved to the pedestal and knelt beside it.

"Did you hear all of that, Obi-Wan?" he asked of the empty air. "If you did I can imagine the blush you would have right now." Qui-Gon swallowed, just saying his Padawan's name brought fresh waves of agony that threatened to squeeze his throat closed.

"You managed to touch so many lives in your short time, my Padawan. And none more so than my own." He drew a shaky breath. "All those times I resisted you entering my life, and now . . . now I don't know how I'm going to live it without you." The tears were now flowing freely down Qui-Gon's cheeks. "I miss–miss you so much."

His voice echoed off the walls of the empty rooms but the Force was silent. Not even a faint touch to balm his torn soul.

Qui-Gon sighed. "Master Yoda suggested that I take on a mission in the hopes that it might distract me. Maybe I will, Obi-Wan. I don't know how many more times I can take turning round in our quarters and expecting that you're going to be there. Maybe it will be easier to get away for a while, away from the Council's scrutiny and their urges to take another Padawan. For I will not. You were the last."

Qui-Gon rose to his feet. Drying his eyes he lifted the damaged lightsaber from where it rested and clipped it to his belt. He would carry it always.

"Farewell, my Obi-Wan," he whispered to the stillness, then he turned and walked from the room, going where ever his feet would take him.

_On the planet Nagiri, in the mid Rim .. ._

Master Rilgora dropped his head into his hand and rubbed at his temples wearily. This whole investigation was proving to be a total headache. A month and a half of investigations and what did they have to show for it? Nothing.

Using the bomb fragments recovered from the wreck, they had been able to trace the explosive to this planet on the mid Rim. The metal ores from this world were unique.

It had been a starting point.

But where were they supposed to go next? Who dealt in these explosives? Who might buy them? Who would take one as far into the Interior as Coruscant? And who would want to blow the ship of such a low profile Senator like Belar?

Rilgora had his Padawan and all of the security officers assigned to him out there now, undercover, trying to track down all the black market weapons dealers on planet.

The Jedi Master gave an audible groan and sank deeper into his seat. It was like trying to find a holocron in the Achieve on a cleaning day.

He felt like chucking the data pad before him over his shoulder and as far away from him as possible. But that would be quite un-masterly.

Time for a break.

Rilgora rose stiffly from his seat. Some tea sounded really good right now.

But barely had he gone two steps when the door to the small room burst open and in strode his Padawan.

He still found it strange to see Nidara dressed in civilian clothing.

But with or without Jedi robes he could not mistake the fact that she was very excited about something.

"I've got it, Master!" she exclaimed waving another cursed data pad. "Here it is!"

Rilgora hid his amusement at witnessing her youthful exuberance. "Slow down, Nidara!" he calmed her. "What have you got?"

"A lead, Master!" she explained, curbing her impatience. "The most promising one yet."

Rilgora moved back to his seat at his desk and motioned Nidara to sit opposite him. "Show me what you have."

To be honest with himself he was as eager to find out what she had as she was to show it.

"I managed to track down one of the weapons dealers down in one of the nearby towns. He deals a lot in our particular explosive and, though there are a lot of his sort about, I had a feeling about this particular villain so I decided to question him more closely.

"He didn't really want to talk to me at first, but a slight nudge of the mind soon got around that little obstacle.

"To cut a long story short I found out that he had a visit from a certain customer around a week before Senator Belar's ship blew up. A customer in the market for explosives. Our explosives in particular."

Rilgora's eyebrows quirked. "And who was this 'customer'?" he asked.

Nidara grinned. "That's the best bit. He was a bounty hunter. A bounty hunter going by the name of 'the Cobra'. "

"I've heard of him," said Rilgora steepling his fingers. "He's making quite a name for himself in these parts. Never fails to complete a job, or so I've heard."

"Well, he purchased several detonators from my dealer friend then made his way to a backwater spaceport a fair distance from the city. I dug around there for a while and found something very interesting. Guess where this bounty hunter's ship was bound."

Rilgora's eyes lit up. "Coruscant?"

"Well, to the inner Rim anyway. I'd say its a safe bet that he was headed for the Capital."

"We shouldn't take anything for granted, Padawan." Rilgora frowned. "But you're right. It's the best lead we have so far." He looked up and smiled. "Good work, Nidara."

The Padawan fairly glowed under her Master's praise.

"Now," Rilgora got back to business. "How do we go about finding this Cobra fellow?"

"That's the part I have yet to figure out, Master," said Nidara.

"Then we'd best get started. And along the way we may be able to find out what such a bounty hunter would want with the death of Senator Belar. . ."

Time, Qui-Gon mused as he made his way to the Council chambers, was a strange thing. It could run like water or stand like stone. It had the power to heal and the power to destroy. Creating and withering memory in its unstoppable flow. And like water on a jagged rock, it had the ability to wear away the sharp edges of pain, smoothing them away until they no longer rent the flesh.

More than a month had passed now since he had lost Obi-Wan and sometimes Qui-Gon didn't know where the time had gone. But by and by he found that his grief was lessening gradually. The painful memories were still there, but the passage of time had muted and softened them.

He could at least now enter his quarters without buckling under sheer raw emotion.

Though, sometimes he would still see something that would twist inside him like a knife. Often something simple – a place where his Padawan liked to sit, a favourite cup.

Qui-Gon had come to realise that people should appreciate the little things in life. For one day they would look back and find that they were the big things.

But he was getting better. Each morning it was easier to pull himself out of bed and when he went to the dining hall, he actually ate something rather than herding his food listlessly around his plate.

He started to talk with others, sharing memories and found that each time he did so his heart grew a little bit lighter. It was still forever changed, but at least now living was bearable.

Finally Qui-Gon reached the doors of the Council Chamber and requested entrance.

His call was answered almost immediately and the doors whisked open.

Qui-Gon stepped inside and into the half circle of the waiting Councilors.

"You requested my presence, Masters?" he said after giving a quiet bow.

"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda greeted. "Better you look," he said approvingly.

Qui-Gon nodded and waited for more. He hoped he hadn't been summoned just so the Council check up on how he was coping without Obi-Wan. He didn't need it.

As if sensing his thoughts, Yoda was quick to lay his fears to rest. "Called you here we have," said the distinguished Master, "for a mission we have for you, if ready for it you feel."

Surprised Qui-Gon paused for a long moment, searching inside himself. Was he ready? He did not want to make a hasty decision that he would come to regret. But in the end he gave a slow nod.

He was still not sure, but then, would he ever be? Now was as good a time as any. "I'm ready, Masters," he said.

The Councilors' eyes grew distant but Qui-Gon could sense their gaze go through him, ascertaining the truth of his words. Qui-Gon lifted his chin and met their collective scrutiny with a steady stare.

"Very well, Qui-Gon," Mace said after a long moment had passed. "If you feel you are ready to go. The mission is based on the planet Angar. The planet is ruled over by two main kingdoms controlling the northern and southern hemispheres. The one that controls the northern hemisphere wishes to begin steps to join the Republic. The second power in the south does not. On their own they have not been able to come to an agreement. As a last resort the northern kingdom has appealed to the Senate for help and the Chancellor has decided to send a Jedi ambassador to meditate the situation.

"We do not foresee any dangers in this mission but it will require a skilled negotiator to bring the two sides together. Would you be willing to accept this mission on behalf of the Council, Qui-Gon?"

"Yes."

Mace nodded and held out a data pad. Qui-Gon stepped forward to take it.

"The transport for Angar leaves in three days. You have until then to study the information provided. May the Force be with you."

It was clearly the end of the meeting. Bowing to the ring of Masters Qui-Gon turned and left the room. He had preparations to make.

The next day Qui-Gon found himself sat staring at the door to Obi-Wan's room. He had been that way for the last half hour, battling with his better judgement. He really ought to go in and sort through his Padawan's belongings before he left on his mission. But he didn't know if he was ready to do it.

Entering his quarters had been bad enough. Could he really risk lapsing back into the dark place he had gone to after Obi-Wan's death.

But, as with the mission, was there ever going to be a ready?

With a sigh he rose to his feet. Best to get it over with.

Slowly Qui-Gon approached the door, moving forward until it loomed before him like a great beast that needed to be defeated.

He raised his hand to the lock.

Shakily dropped it.

Drew a breath.

Raised it.

And before he could hesitate again, slapped the control.

The door whisked open and Qui-Gon stepped inside.

Silence. The room was as silent as the grave. Qui-Gon shuddered at the thought and looked about. His heart ached. Here was his Padawan's most personal space, filled with all his few but treasured belongings, all set out and displayed in Obi-Wan's neat way.

With a familiar prickling behind his eyes Qui-Gon moved through the room, taking in every little object.

Along the far wall was a shelf filled with data pads from his Padawan's studies. Real books stood amongst them, books of tales that Obi-Wan had favoured as a wide eyed child. But Qui-Gon's eyes were drawn to the edge of the shelf where three models of Verpine fighters rested. Each of them crafted by a careful hand. His apprentice had made them as a boy and here they were still. People may never have really called Obi-Wan very sentimental but obviously even as he had grown older Obi-Wan had not wanted to part with some of his childhood hobbies.

Disturbing the gathering dust, Qui-Gon lifted one of the models down, smiling sadly as he studied its details before finally replacing the priceless item to its rightful space on the shelf.

Quietly the Master moved on.

On the bedside table rested a couple of small rocks. Stones his Padawan had taken as souvenirs from their most memorable missions. A custom that had begun all those years ago on his thirteenth birthday. With the very first gift that Qui-Gon had ever given him.

That particular rock was not present. Qui-Gon was not surprised. Obi-Wan had carried it everywhere with him in his tunic pocket. He would have had it with him when . . . when . . .

Qui-Gon squeezed his eyes shut. This was getting too much.

Taking several deep breaths and drawing on the Force he waited for his emotions to come under control. He had become very practiced at this exercise it seemed over the past weeks.

A few seconds later he was able to reopen his eyes, and the watery windows roamed the room. He had come here with the intent of sorting through Obi-Wan's things, putting away those things he wished to keep.

Now he found he could not do it.

This place was a monument to the spirit that had left it behind, sculpted by the years Obi-Wan had lived here. Qui-Gon ran his hand down a spare cloak hanging on a nearby hook, caressing the fabric. Like every thing else in the room it still carried a trace of Obi-Wan's presence. The Master could not bring himself to disturb it.

Maybe after the mission but not now. He still needed something to cling to other than the hilt still clipped to his belt.

Bowing his head, Qui-Gon left the room, carefully closing the door behind him.

He went back to the kitchen area, glancing at the chronometer on the wall as he went. It was near enough midday. He didn't really feel much like eating now but perhaps he should start preparing his midday meal. It would keep his hands busy if nothing else.

The Master lifted a pot from the shelf and filled it with water. He then moved back with the intent to put it down on the hob.

Or he would have done if he had been able to reach it.

Maybe it was his sadness or maybe it was because his thoughts were so focused on Obi-Wan at that time.

For what ever reason something happened at that point that caused the pot to smash to the ground, dropping from his suddenly stunned fingers. Water splashed all over the floor but Qui-Gon barely noticed it, he was too busy grabbing onto a nearby chair to steady himself. And if his hands had not been so occupied they would most certainly have gone to his head

Because in that moment a part of his mind that he had thought closed forever was suddenly and almost savagely torn open.

A wave of presence flooded into his heart and mind, and on its crest there came a voice, crying, desperate and painfully familiar. The same voice that had haunted so many of his thoughts night and day for six terrible weeks.

Except this was no specter of his memory there to torment him. This was real. This was tangible.

This was alive.

In one word it broke across his senses like water on a beach, drowning out everything he had ever felt or experienced in the last month like footprints in the sand.

And to him it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

_"Master!"_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_Two months earlier_...

The darkness swirled around his mind like a fog, muffling everything; light, sound, the vibration of a ship's deck beneath his cheek.

Filtering slowly through the haze he could distinguish a vague... what? What was it? He didn't know what it was, but it sounded familiar, if only he could remember why.

Forcing himself to calm, he concentrated on the thing, imagining it pushing through his consciousness, breaking through the barriers until bit by bit it became clearer: words. A voice.

". . . can't believe you did it, Cobra."

A second voice grunted. "Try not to sound so surprised, Ranak."

What was this? He tried to open his eyes but found them sluggish to his efforts.

"He doesn't look like much though, does he?" The first voice again, sounding slightly disappointed.

"What did you expect?!" The second snapped.

"I don't know," the first answered "but he does look rather boyish. And a bit on the small side. Hardly the great warrior that Sonu will be expecting."

"In that case you should have let me go after the Master," the other growled. "_He_ might've filled your expectations."

"No, not the Master," the first responded. "This business was risky enough without taking on a full Jedi Master."

"Then stop your snivelling. You've got what you wanted and I expect to be well paid. I don't care how disappointed your boss is."

The first voice hardened. "You're not getting anything until I am satisfied that he is unharmed. I warned you, bounty hunter. He is of no use to me or my boss crippled."

The cold chuckle that followed could send shivers down one's spine.

"Don't worry, I restrained myself. Even if it did take all the fun out of the game. I have a lot of scores to settle with his kind."

"Well, with what my boss has in store for this one, you'll be glad you didn't indulge yourself. And there are a lot of other people out there with similar views who will pay handsomely to see a Jedi suffer. That was the whole point of this."

_Jedi._

The word cut through the fog of his brain like a knife.

Obi-Wan Kenobi awoke.

Forcing open his reluctant eyes he found himself lying bound on a cold metal floor looking straight up into the forms of two dark figures.

His slight movement must have caught their attention for they broke off their discussion and fell silent. Two pairs of hard, shadowed eyes turned his way.

"Ah! So our little prize is finally awake!" said the closest figure. The first voice.

Obi-Wan struggled valiantly to clear his bleary vision and his swirling mind. _What? Where . . . ?_

"Impressive," the second spoke from the shadows behind. "I expected him to be out for at least another day."

Obi-Wan frowned, struggling with his memory. That voice was familiar.

The figure must have caught his confusion for there came a cruel cackle. "Don't you remember me, Jedi? I'd thought it would've been easy after what happened back there on the ship." He laughed again.

And that was when Obi-Wan knew. The memory of that laugh struck his brain like lightning. . .

_A great weight smiting his back as he had made his way through the ship._

No warning. No surge from the Force.

Long limbs with the grip of iron had closed about him, snaking round his arms and legs in an effective lock.

He had struggled. Oh, he had fought back against that expert grip. But before the battle could be decided, a voice had sounded close to his ear. "Oh, no, my little Jedi. You're mine now!" Then something sharp had been pressed to his neck and it was over as quickly as it began. His limbs fell dead despite his best efforts and the world slid away from him.

The last thing he remembered was calling desperately to Qui-Gon before collapsing to the floor, accompanied by the laughter of his attacker. . . 

Obi-Wan looked sharply at the shape in the shadows.

The faceless voice chuckled again. "So you do remember, then." The figure shifted and a long shape emerged from the shadows.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened, finding that he knew the scarred countenance as well.

It was the mechanic from the landing pad.

He remembered the odd feeling of unease he had experienced when he had stood there with his Master. _Why_ had he not paid more attention to his instincts?

Obi-Wan struggled to rise into a sitting position, fighting the dullness that seemed to have overcome him. "Release me," he said as firmly as he could, staring up at his two captors.

He took the fact that he wasn't already dead as a sign that they had a purpose for him. Obviously these men thought they could use him as some sort of leverage against the Republic.

The first man, Ranak, looked amused by his demand. "And why would we do something like that?" he asked.

"Because you stand to gain nothing from my capture. The Republic will not bow to any demands you make."

Ranak laughed. "Ah, my dear boy! Who ever said we were going to demand anything? We want nothing from the Republic."

Obi-Wan stiffened, feeling as if the rug had just been pulled from beneath his feet. _Never assume anything!_

Holding his composure he quickly he tried another tack. "Nevertheless, it would be better for you to release me now rather than later by force. The Jedi will find me in the end. "

"Ah yes, they might just do that," smirked Ranak. "If they believed you were among the living."

Obi-Wan frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well you see, my dear Jedi," said Ranak with a certain relish that Obi-Wan did not like. "My bounty hunter friend here actually managed to plant a few bombs on the good senator's ship when he took you."

Obi-Wan's blood froze over. _Oh, please no . . ._

"Those few bombs came in very handy for covering tracks," Ranak smiled. "And I'm afraid to say that you, along with everyone else aboard that ship, are now dead to the rest of the galaxy. No trace. No questions. No search." The smile nudged into a grin. "No one is coming for you, young Jedi."

Obi-Wan tamped down on a rush of emotions with difficulty, anger chief among them

All those people he had meant to protect. Lost. And why? Because of him? Because they wanted him for some as-of-yet unknown reason.

Obi-Wan pushed those ugly thoughts away with an effort. They would not serve him now. Guilt could come later. Right now he had to alert Qui-Gon. These two villains were clever but they obviously hadn't factored a Jedi bond into their little scheme.

With a hint of satisfaction he reached for the Force . . .

Only to find that it wasn't there.

Wildly he reached out again and again. But he might as well have tried to breathe in a vacuum.

Panic ripped through him, gushing like ice through his veins to every point in his body. The power that had been as much a part of him as breathing was gone. Gone.

The pain must have shown on his face because the Cobra gave another of his cold laughs.

"Missing something, Jedi?" he asked. Leaning down, he tugged on the collar, unnoticed until now, around Obi-Wan's neck. "Amazing isn't it? The effect of a Repellor. They're quite like a Ysalamiri lizard. As long as you wear it, you're blind to the Force. Ingenious, eh?"

He indicated another ominously glinting band around his own arm. "How do you think I got close enough to ambush you on the ship? You didn't even know I was coming until it was too late, did you?" He gave another hard tug on Obi-Wan's collar. "How does it feel to be just like everyone else, Kenobi?" he sneered.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, desperately trying to bring his panic under control. Drawing in deep breaths that seemed to contain no oxygen, he ran through the calming techniques he had learned as a child. They still worked, not as perfectly, but a mind so used to extended control could not be so easily untrained

Slowly his stilled his inner trembling and arranged his features to impassiveness. Opening his eyes, he glared at Ranak. "What do you want from me?"

Ranak broadened the wicked smile that never seemed to leave his face. "I'm afraid the pleasure of telling you that belongs to another. But don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. We land in five hours. I'll let you fill the time entertaining yourself with that question. But until then, Kenobi. . ." Ranak gave a mock bow then swept from the room, the Cobra striding along behind him.

A reinforced door clanged shut in the darkness with a certain finality, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the darkness.

Three meters across the room. Three meters back.

Three meters across the room. Three meters back.

Obi-Wan prowled around his cell like a caged animal, the four cold, dank, rusty walls that held him chaffed unbearably against his spirit.

But even that was nothing compared to the sith-damned collar that held his very soul prisoner within the walls of his own body.

Obi-Wan swallowed and stopped his restless pacing. Thinking about it hurt. He pressed his eyes shut and clenched his hands to white, bloodless fists within the binders that held them with a cruel tightness behind his back.

_Oh, dear Force._ How did anyone find words for a torture like this? To him it felt like dying. The voice of his body hushed to a mere whisper that told him nothing of use. Sight. Hearing. Taste. Touch. All were unbearably muted.

Yet at the same time his feelings of discomfort had grown: the pain of the binders biting into the flesh of his wrists, the cold damp of the cell seeping into his bones.

Out of long habit he had attempted to compensate, to lessen his discomfort, to regulate his temperature and to silence the warning of frantic nerves whose signals had been acknowledged and could now stop.

But it was no use.

He couldn't even loosen the cuffs that were cutting off the supply of blood to his hands, or find the mechanism to the door of his cell.

Couldn't reach Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan quickly turned his thoughts away from his Master. If Ranak's words were true and everyone believed him to be dead, then he couldn't imagine what Qui-Gon was going through. His Master was a man of deep feeling and Obi-Wan had witnessed the ravages that Xanatos' betrayal and Tahl's death had had upon his heart. He could not bear the thought of his own 'death' adding to those incurable scars.

With that thought, Obi-Wan felt his own troubles fade away to almost nothing, and he knew that if he could have the Force back for just one moment, he would let Qui-Gon know that he was alright.

But that was a wish that wasn't likely to come true in the near future. He could only hope that he would find a way out of this, and quickly. That was the best thing he could do right now.

But all that left him with was to wonder about why he was here. Again. The questions played over and over in his mind. Why had someone gone to such lengths to secure his capture? What could they possibly want from him if not to use him as some sort of leverage against the Republic?

The not knowing was just yet another form of torture. He was sure that was how Ranak had designed it.

Obi-Wan could have howled in frustration.

Turning on his heel he wheeled round and started back the way he had come.

But before he could resume his pacing, the ground suddenly bucked and jolted, sending him crashing to the floor. His bound arms screamed beneath the impact.

"What in the blazes?!"

He was definitely not in the best of moods.

Picking himself up with difficulty he found that the vibrations beneath his feet had ceased.

They had landed.

Obi-Wan allowed himself a twinge of anticipation. Maybe now he was going to get some answers.

Sure enough, within minutes he heard the telltale scrape of metal as the bolt to his door was drawn back and the long, tall shape of the bounty hunter emerged from the gloom.

It was not hard to see how the Cobra had come by his name.  
"Time to go, Jedi," he said.

Obi-Wan stood firm and lifted his chin. It was a pointless show of defiance, but right now he didn't feel much like doing these people any favours.

To his surprise the Cobra gave a faint grin, "I rather hoped that would be your answer," he said.

Then with an alarming speed, the bounty hunter closed the gap between them and grabbed the short tail at the back of Obi-Wan's head, yanking it back as far as it would go. The long fingers wound into his hair and tightened until the Padawan's eyes watered.

"Just give me a reason, Jedi," the bounty hunter hissed, now deadly serious. "Ranak told me not to harm you, but give me enough of an excuse and I will enjoy making your stay even more unpleasant than it's already destined to be."

The bounty hunter thrust his free hand before Obi-Wan's face and the Padawan couldn't help but notice that the third and fourth fingers were missing. "I've got too much against the Jedi to let this opportunity pass lightly. Now," he drew his hand away, "are we going to do this the easy way," the fingers in his hair tightened still further, "or the hard way?"

The burning pain in his neck was becoming unbearable, but Obi-Wan held the bounty hunter's gaze for a second longer, his stubbornness and common sense warring with each other for supremacy.

Fortunately the common sense won out.

Just.

There was no point in getting himself into further trouble. Best to go along for now and await a more opportune moment. And it would be wiser to do that in one piece.

Obi-Wan lowered his eyes.

The Cobra snorted and released his hair. "Well then," the bounty hunter grabbed his arms. "Shall we go?"

Obi-Wan was pushed through the door and propelled through the ship's passageways, all of which seemed to be in the same rusty disrepair as his cell.

In almost no time Obi-Wan was pulled to a halt near the hatchway.

Ranak was already waiting.

"Ready to start your new life, Obi-Wan?" he said pleasantly.

Obi-Wan just stared coldly back at him. He might have decided to go along with his captors for now but that didn't mean he was going to give them the satisfaction of responding to all their little taunts.

Ranak shrugged at his silence then accessed the control panel to the ramp.

The ship shuddered and the ramp began to lower giving Obi-Wan the first taste of his new destination.

It did nothing to alleviate his misgivings.

Barely had the ramp shifted when an icy blast hit him full in the face. Frigid air whistled through the gaps as the door seal was broken. Cold as death fingers burrowing through his tunics to make him shiver involuntarily.

The Cobra chuckled at his reaction. "Better get used to it, Jedi."

Obi-Wan reprimanded himself for his lack of control but maintained his silence.

Finally the ramp finished its descent and Obi-Wan looked out on a frozen wasteland that stared bleakly back at him, stretching out into a pale, endless distance.

It was unforgivingly harsh. Devoid of life. An icy hell.

Suddenly a voice called up from outside. Obi-Wan could not see the speaker from where he stood, concealed as he was behind the door frame. It annoyed and dismayed him still further that he hadn't even been able to sense anyone there at all.

"Ranak," the disembodied voice greeted. "I have orders to help you bring in the Jedi prisoner. Or, if there be no Jedi captive, I'm to escort you directly to Sonu himself." The tone left no doubt as to what that meeting would entail.

Obi-Wan watched Ranak smile. "Good to see you too, Badami," his captor said.

"Stop playing games with me, Ranak," the man outside said testily. "Do you have a Jedi captive for Sonu as you promised?"

"As a matter of fact I do."

"Well then, bring him out. We have a transport ready to take him to the fortress. Then maybe we can all get out of this blasted cold."

Ranak signalled and Obi-Wan felt a sharp jab in his back as the Cobra shoved him forward. He stepped from behind the door frame and into the view of whomever waited outside.

The Padawan's breath caught. Near the foot of the ramp stood at least a dozen guards. Humans, Gammoreans, Whiphids. All armed with blasters.

Evidentially they were taking no chances with him.

Obi-Wan's heart sank. So much for an opportune moment.

He was pushed forward once again by his bounty hunter guard and descended the short ramp. The bitter cold air pinched his skin, making him want to reach instinctively for his cloak, longing for the protection that the brown folds would offer. But it was gone, apparently lost before he ever woke up and he felt strangly vulnerable without it.

As soon as his feet touched the frozen soil the rest of the guards surrounded him, the hulking Gammoreans positioning themselves at his sides, effectively blocking any escape route with their shear bulk.

"How's he been, Ranak?" the Captain of the guards asked casting a wary eye over Obi-Wan.

"Compliant so far," Ranak replied. "But let's not take any chances, eh?"

"Why?" The man was definitely nervous. "He's not going to be trying any of that Jedi wizardry, is he?"

Ranak smiled confidently and shook his head. Stepping up to the Jedi's side, he reached out flicked his finger against the thin collar around Obi-Wan's neck. "Not as long as he's wearing this."

The Captain peered at the repellor then nodded stiffly and walked to the head of his waiting men. With a wave of a hand he signalled them all to start moving.

Not far ahead Obi-Wan could see a small land speeder with a single man waiting in the driver's seat. It looked ordinary enough but as he was herded closer he could see that the rear seats had been removed and in their place a large iron hoop was fixed to the floor. He had no doubts that his cuffs would be fixed inescapably to that hoop in the next few minutes.

Sure enough the Gammorean to his right indicated that he should climb up into the back of the speeder. But before he did the other took hold of his wrists and released the binders, bringing his arms around to retie them at the front.

_So_, he made a mental note, they had to shift his binders to transfer him, did they? That might come in useful later on.

As soon as he was done the second Gammorean shoved him up into the speeder and fastened him securely to the iron hoop. The rest of the guards arrayed themselves around the transport and began to walk with it as it started to move.

_Can't be too far to go then_, Obi-Wan noted.

And he was right. They had travelled in that fashion for no more than ten minutes when Obi-Wan spied a great black shape on the frozen horizon, a black shape that shifted and morphed as they drew nearer until it was transformed into an imposing, walled fortress before his very eyes.

A shiver ran up Obi-Wan's spine. The building rose up from the plain like some beast from the seven hells, hunkered down upon the plain for all to fear. Even the stunted shrubs dotted here and there seemed to shrink away from its terrifying majesty.

But it wasn't the dark walls rearing twenty meters into the frigid air, their great iron gates grinning out across the landscape, nor the electro-wire that crowned them like nest of cutting hair, or even the score of heavily armed guards that diligently patrolled the perimeter that made Obi-Wan's blood run cold.

It was the vague feeling that if he ever went in through those heavy iron doors, he would never come back out.

Obi-Wan suddenly decided that he had waited long enough. If he was going to escape he was going to do it now, before he was devoured by that gaping maw and hope along with him.

Obi-Wan cast his gaze around, assessing his chances, formulating his plan.

It was going to be tough, but surprise would be on his side.

Trying to control his heavily thudding heart, Obi-Wan ticked off the seconds until the speeder drew to a halt before the fortress. Immediately a guard from the gates hurried forward and asked the driver for his verification.

It was given and the guard snapped orders for Obi-Wan to be unloaded and brought in for processing.

Obi-Wan held his breath. Almost time.

One of the huge Gammoreans moved forward and Obi-Wan gathered himself as the meaty giant undid the clasps fixing him to the speeder, pulling him down.

But before the guard could refix his arms behind his back Obi-Wan seized the moment and threw himself sideways, ramming his full force into the Gammorean's legs.

It was like hitting a small mountain, but his momentum was enough to make the unwieldy behemoth take a step back and stumble over an icy log where he landed with an enraged squeal.

Obi-Wan rolled quickly aside to save himself from impacting against the same obstacle.

Then they were on him. But Obi-Wan was still a Jedi, with or without the Force. His skills were not mystical gifts, but had been earned over a lifetime of challenges and hardships, of blood, sweat and tears. It was a fact that many failed to acknowledge and it was a lesson these people were asking to learn . . .

Badami's boot swung at his head but Obi-Wan ducked away, coming round and kicking out. Badami went down with a howl, clutching at an injured knee.

Obi-Wan rolled himself into the gap his fall had created. Twisting, he landed halfway on another man, who cried out as the Jedi's knees hit him in the chest. But this one was faster and he got his hands around Obi-Wan's right leg, pinning him to the ground until the side of Obi-Wan's hand made sharp contact with his nose.

Freed, Obi-Wan rolled around and using his momentum once more he came to his knees and brought his fists up into the guard before him. He then used the crumbling man to haul himself to his feet.

Which was when his luck ran out. Straightening, the Padawan found himself staring straight down the barrel of a blaster. Obi-Wan danced backwards, all the time knowing that he was too late. . .

"Alive, damn you!" Ranak shouted from somewhere and the guard hesitated.

Obi-Wan did not. He kicked the blaster from the guard's hand.

It flew off and disappeared.

_Blast!_ Obi-Wan though, _should have taken that._

But he had no time to think further. The guards who were still standing were upon him and reinforcments from the fortress were rushing over to join the fray.

He had to get away before they got here. If he could get to the speeder and make it back to the ship he had a chance.

The next guard he brought down with another kick and a well timed elbow, but the men were no beginners at this either and Obi-Wan's advantage of surprise had run its course.

A fist connected with his jaw, spinning him round where he ran into another aimed at his midriff. Pain exploded through every nerve. His body wanted to double over protectively but Obi-Wan didn't give in. Could not give in. He had to fight his way free to that speeder. He had to. . .

Ignoring his body's demands he deflected the next blow with the short chain between his cuffs.

Kicking up he connected with something and used his hands to grip his attacker's forearm. Holding on for all he was worth he rolled to his side and around, his legs shearing the other man's out from under him, forcing the soldier to roll with him.

Trying to get to his feet, Obi-Wan found his own legs being kicked out from beneath him, new pain erupted in his side as a heavy boot found his ribs.

Tears blinded him and this time his body did crumple.

Excruciating pain was all he knew.

"I warned you, Jedi scum," he heard Cobra's voice snarl in his ear. A fist wound into his hair and hauled him to his feet.

He struggled against the grip, not really comprehending any more what he was doing. His body was screaming at him, leaching all the strength from his muscles and he could do nothing about it. He tried to lift his hands but he found that his arms had mutinied and would not obey.

Someone grabbed his wrists and removed his cuffs. But before he could think why, his treacherous arms were wrenched brutally up his back almost to the point that his shoulders were pulled from their sockets. His hands were then forced into the binders again and he heard himself moan. But somehow the pain brought his mind back to the fore and he blinked, trying to rid his eyes of the hot liquid dripping into them.

He was bleeding he realised.

The hand in his hair wrenched his head back.

"Look at me, scum!" the Cobra shouted. Obi-Wan focused on the face, getting a good view of a broken nose. He blinked dazedly, looked like good work.

And it was small justice for all the innocent people this man had killed.

The Cobra's scowl suddenly deepened even further. "What do you think you're smiling at?!"

He was backhanded sharply across the face.

"Alright, that's enough!"

The command drew everyone up short.

Straining Obi-Wan managed to turn his head enough to see that a new man had arrived on the scene, flanked by two towering Wookies.

All of the guards obeyed and stepped back. Someone important, Obi-Wan surmised.

"Sonu," he heard someone whisper.

The bounty hunter, however, wasn't cowed by the new arrival's presence.

"You," the Cobra snapped. "Why didn't you help?"

"It was too much fun to stop."

"Fun! He nearly got loose and smashed up your men in the process!"

Ummm, smashed was a good word for it, Obi-Wan thought, his swirling vision still fixed on that nose.

"I didn't risk my neck just to let him escape for your entertainment!" the bounty hunter raged.

"Calm down, Cobra," Sonu ordered then turned to the man still standing on the edges of the battered group. "Ranak, it seems you were right, a Jedi will do very nicely for our little entertainment business." Obi-Wan watched Sonu's eyes travel over him, taking in his battered appearance, dwarfed once more by the Gamorreans flanking him. "I have to say he doesn't look like much but after that little performance . . ."

"I'm glad you approve," said Ranak silkily. "And let's also take into account that he is somewhat . . . shall we say, Force-cuffed at the moment. Just think what he'd be capable of if that collar was removed."

Sonu's smile widened. "I'm actually looking forward to the next few weeks. I have a hunch that they're going to be very profitable. You are to be commended Ranak. Now bring him in!"

He looked over at Obi-Wan still caught in the Cobra's unforgiving grip. "And try not to be too rough. I don't want him any more damaged than he already is." And with that he turned and marched back to the fortress.

Obi-Wan's heart sank. He had lost. The doors swung open, waiting for him. There was no escape. But that didn't stop him from struggling some more. To go through those gates was to abandon hope.

"Oh no, Jedi, you're going in and your going to go quietly." The Cobra drew his neck back once more, exposing his throat whilst drawing out a hypo at the same time. Obi-Wan was forced to watch helplessly as it was pressed to his neck and felt the contents flood into his blood stream.

Almost immediately his limbs numbed and his muscles weakened. Paralyzed he fell limply into the massive arms of the nearest Wookie. Hairy limbs engulfed him and he was lifted. Then the towering alien bore him on long strides towards the gaping doorway.

Ten meters. Five meters. One. And they were inside. Obi-Wan's sight began to fade, a dimness that wasn't all to do with the blackness of the building surrounding him.

He stayed conscious just long enough to hear the ominous clang of metal in the dark behind.

And the sound of it was like a death knell to his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Cold. He was freezing. Absently a hand reached for his cloak, only to be reminded that it was gone.

Obi-Wan moaned and came to his senses for the second time in as many days. His head pounded from the remnants of the sedative that they had given him but he forced it to move anyway.

A bleary glance told him he was once again secured in a small cell.

He was getting distinctly tired of that.

Remaining prone on the floor, Obi-Wan very gently began to test his body, checking it for any serious damage. As he did the results of his last activity began to themselves loudly known. He was a minefield of pulled muscles, cuts and bruises. Any movement caused him pain. He felt as if he had fallen of a cliff. Well, close, he _had_ tangled with a Gammorean.

But thankfully there was no injuries that had the potential to incapacitate him. The Force for small mercies.

Wincing he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked round, glad that they had at least seen fit to untie his hands before loss of circulation damaged them for good.

The cell was empty of everything except himself. Plain white walls reflected the harsh light sharply into his eyes. There were no windows to the outside world and only one exit. But rather than a door this opening was barred by a force field, allowing the guards to see everything he was doing within the room.

_No chance of taking them by surprise_, Obi-Wan thought grimly.

So this was it, then. He had fought and lost and now he was a prisoner in this fortress, or what ever it was. He had no idea how he was going to get out of it. He was Force-blind, his lightsaber was gone and between him and his freedom stood impenetrable walls, forcefields and heavens knew how many armed guards. Then there was the endless frozen wasteland to deal with beyond that.

Oh, Force, what was he going to do?

Obi-Wan dropped his aching head into his hands as hopelessness washed over him.

He wished his Master was here. When Qui-Gon was next to him nothing ever seemed impossible to overcome. He sorely needed his Master's serene presence now.

On impulse Obi-Wan reached into the inner pocket of his ragged tunic and drew out the object that always resided there. Running his fingers over the smooth surface, he gazed at the river stone. The faint red veins winked silently up at him as the light caught its black depths, as if in greeting.

Obi-Wan smiled at it grimly. Force bound as he was he couldn't sense the rock's small Force-signature but just the mere sight of it comforted him somewhat. It reminded him that the Force was still there. Like the sun riding above the clouds on a stormy day, it was still there.

He just had to rid himself of this damned collar first.

He didn't know how he was going to accomplish that yet, but, where there was life there was hope.

Obi-Wan drew a deep steadying breath.

And he was still very much alive.

"Awake, my little Jedi?" a voice said behind him.

Quickly Obi-Wan shoved his stone back into his pocket. He didn't want it to be discovered and taken from him.

Slowly he rose to his feet and turned round, getting his first good look at Sonu.  
The apparent leader of this group stared at him through the hazy blue shield of energy. Gloating.

Obi-Wan stared right back.

The man was short but very stocky with shoulders like a bantha. Dark hair covered a round head framing flinty, calculating eyes that indicated a cunning intellect.

And those eyes were studying him no less openly.

"I'd've thought such a fearsome warrior as a Jedi would be taller, boy," he said, thin lips twitching in amusement.

_What!_

"Sorry to disappoint you," Obi-Wan said evenly. If this man thought fearsome reputations went on size alone then he knew of a certain green Master who would be only to happy to change his opinion. Not that fighting made one great, of course.

"But no matter," Sonu continued, "from what I saw outside, it will make little difference. Which is well, for you will need all of that impressive skill in the not too distant future."

What 'not to distant future' would that be? Obi-Wan locked eyes with Sonu. "Tell me why I am here," he demanded, in no mood for all these veiled hints of what was planned for him. "I warn you that when the Republic find out you have been holding a Jedi prisoner the results for you will not be pleasant."

"Now, now, Jedi. None of that. Ranak told me of what transpired on Coruscant. A competent job, and I, like him, doubt if there will be a search. And if there is? Well I don't think that decrepit old government that you call the Republic is effective enough to do anything these days. No, Jedi, we're quite safe here and so I _will_ tell you why you are present."

Obi-Wan, incensed by Sonu's description of the Republic, glared at the man but listened carefully.

"You see, Jedi," he said. "I run a sort of gladiator business in this establishment. People pay fortunes to see warriors from all over the galaxy fight against certain death in my coliseum here."

Obi-Wan's heart took a steep and sudden plunge. He had an awful feeling he knew where this was going.

"I've found it to be a highly lucrative business. You wouldn't believe the amount of people who want to see the warriors and monsters of legend fight and die in great battles before their eyes" Sonu grinned wickedly at Obi-Wan's sickened expression. "But of course," Sonu continued. "no business is without its rivals and I'm afraid I've fallen rather behind mine. Profits have taken a turn for the worst. My last venture turned out badly. I put a lot of effort and money into capturing a famed warrior from Mandalor, but despite that he fell in the third round. The _third round_!" Sonu's face twisted into a scowl. "I can imagine how Hanala would've loved that."

Obi-Wan didn't k know who Sonu was talking about but he assumed 'Hanala' was a business rival.

"I was most displeased to lose him, Jedi," Sonu's eyes displayed just how displeased. "But then Ranak gave me an interesting idea: if people would pay a fortune to see a Mandalorian contend in the games. Imagine what they would give to see a Jedi. " Sonu fixed his eyes on Obi-Wan. "No offence, Jedi, but a lot of my clientele would love to see one of your kind die in the pit."

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together grimly, he could just imagine what sort of _clientele_ Sonu was speaking of.

"I have to admit though, I was a bit hesitant about the idea at first but once Ranak mentioned it, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. So here you are. My latest champion. I hope you wont disappoint."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Then I'm sorry, but you are going to be disappointed. I will not harm anyone or anything in this _pit_ that you have mentioned." He allowed a slight smile to form on his face. "All of this has been for nothing."

Sonu's features grew hard. "I thought that may be your answer. But think carefully about your position here, Jedi. It would be foolish to anger me, you were too expensive to waste now."

Obi-Wan's gaze remained resolute. "I am well aware of my position, thank-you, and my answer stands. Do what you wish to me but I will not do it."

A cold smile flickered across his captor's face. "Who said I was going to do anything to you, my boy? Like I said _you_ are to valuable and I know that as a Jedi you are trained not fear any threats to yourself. But what of others?" he let the words hang for a few terrible seconds. "I have a lot of prisoners here, Jedi. Others that are not so valuable. So shall we say… for each time you do not comply with my wishes one of them will die by my guards' hand." His cunning gaze rested upon the Jedi. "So consider carefully, you can either compete with other warriors in a fair match, or an innocent bystander will lose their life. What's it to be, Kenobi? You are taught to protect the innocent, are you not?"

Sonu shifted from the sight of the suddenly dangerous ice blue eyes glaring at him from behind the force-field. He quickly covered his unease with a sickly grin. "The choice is yours. I'll give you a couple of days to recover from your little escapade outside the gates, then for my prisoners' sake, I hope you will have changed your mind."

With that he turned and left, leaving only the empty air to bear Obi-Wan's gaze.

The young Jedi stood in the stunned silence that the man left in his wake, the ultimatum hanging like a lead weight around his neck.

What in the Force _was_ he going to do? Slowly he let his trembling knees unlock and sank back to the cool floor, burying his face in his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Obi-Wan guessed that a full day had passed before the guards approached his cell again.

He spent the time sat on the floor. His river stone wrapped tightly in his palm. It seemed to have become a permanent fixture there over the past hours, an island of calm as he wrestled with his predicament.

But one thing was certain. He would not allow innocent people to be killed because of him. He would have to fight.

Obi-Wan turned the situation over in his mind. Sonu had said that he had to defeat others in the contests, but that did not mean the defeats had to be fatal.

That knowledge gave him some degree of comfort. He only hoped that it would be enough.

But before any further worries could invade his mind, he noticed four burly men with blasters approaching his cell, the first and foremost carried a set of binders in his meaty fist.

Obi-Wan could make a good guess at who they were for.

Expecting trouble, the young Jedi stood, tense and ready, as the force field to his cell was lowered.

Despite their obvious advantage, and to Obi-Wan's grim amusement, the men seemed almost nervous to be within ten paces of him. Their blasters were held in a white knuckled grip as if expecting him to explode into motion at any second.

Force-bound or not his actions at the gate had obviously earned him a reputation. News travelled fast here it seemed.

"You're coming with us, Jedi," the guard holding the binders ordered.

"Why?" Obi-Wan asked warily.

"Sonu's orders," the man snapped, annoyed by the back chat. "We can't have you cluttering up our cells when they may be needed for other things. Now stand there and don't move." The guard came forward and pulled Obi-Wan's arms behind his back, fixing the binders securely in place.

The Padawan gave him no fight over it. Better to go willingly on his own feet than be stunned unconscious and slung unceremoniously over a guard's shoulder. He had no doubt that that would be the case if he resisted, and the end results would only be the same.

Job done the lead guard pushed Obi-Wan towards the door. "Now walk," he ordered.

Obi-Wan obeyed, following two of the guards from the cell while the remaining two fell into position behind him.

"Where are you taking me?" Obi-Wan ventured, wanting an answer but not really expecting to get one.

"To where the other slaves are kept," the head guard answered shortly. "Unusual really. Sonu doesn't normally place his more valuable fighters in with that lesser rabble." The man gave Obi-Wan a wicked glance. "In my opinion I think he just wants you to see the people in line for execution if you disobey his wishes."

Obi-Wan closed his mouth and turned from the guard in disgust. He did not wish to know any more.

They need not have bothered. If Sonu knew Jedi like he thought he did, he should have known that Obi-Wan would fight to save people, whether he saw them or not.

Silently he raged against this trap he was caught in.

The corridors were wide and high but dimly lit. A cold draft was a constant presence.

The guards led him on a winding path that was almost impossible to memorise, the floor tilted ever downwards and the air grew steadily colder until Obi-Wan realised they must now be underground.

The freezing temperature seeped into the young Jedi's bones making him acutely aware of all his acquired aches and pains.

But as Obi-Wan started to seriously wish for a thicker tunic, the little procession made a last turn in the wide corridor and the Padawan had to hold back an involuntary gasp. Before them, looming dimly through the half light, stood a pair of black iron doors whose sheer size would have put the main entrance of the Jedi Temple to shame.

They frowned through the gloom, forbidding any further passage. Stopping at their mighty feet Obi-Wan felt oddly small and powerless.. He wondered faintly what this place had been before it had been taken over by these lowlifes.

One of the guards gave a strange signal with one hand. Obi-Wan could see no one, but the group must have been watched for instantly there came a great coughing rumble and the doors began to grind laboriously open, releasing from their mouth the stench of filthy stagnant air.

"Welcome to your new home, Jedi," the lead guard sneered. "Though, I wouldn't worry too much, judging by the life expectancy of fighting slaves, it may not be for too long."

Obi-Wan ignored him as the another guard undid his binders and gave him a hard shove through the small opening.

The young Jedi stumbled over the threshold and before he could regain his footing the reinforced doors ground shut behind him with surprising swiftness.

Sighing, Obi-Wan straightened and took his first look at his new 'home'.

Like the doors that guarded it, the size of the room was almost incomprehensible, stretching hundreds of metres in every direction.

Obi-Wan could only guess that this room spread through the entire foundation of the fortress,

Though, for all its size, there was no opulence, no grandeur. The walls were made from hard grey stone, damp with icy water and the floor was mere dirt.

But all that faded to the back of his mind as Obi-Wan's eyes came to rest on those that filled the huge space.

A great sea of beings, Ragged and starving.

In that moment Obi-Wan was glad that he could not feel the Force, for his senses would surely have recoiled from the cloud of misery that hung in the stagnant air like a smothering blanket, suffocating all present beneath its heavy folds.

At least almost all. Obi-Wan noted that there were several guards moving round the prisoners, each carrying a stun pike in the gloating manner possessed by all those with assurance of their complete control over others.

Haunted eyes began to turn his way and the Padawan shifted, unsure of what to do. Every space on the floor was occupied by single or small groups of people clustered around dirty blankets or small flea-bitten cots.

But before he could think too much on the problem of where to put himself, an old man crept to his side.

"New, lad?" he croaked peering up at the young Jedi with watery blue eyes.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said carefully, unsure of the man's intentions. Blast this collar.

But Obi-Wan doubted he posed any true threat. The man was old and frail, worn down by cold and hunger. It looked as if any breath could be his last. Obi-Wan's heart wrung in pity for him. Obviously yet another casualty of this cursed place. How long had he been here?

The old man studied him just as carefully, looking over his lean, sturdy frame with knowing eyes that had seen too much. Obi-Wan fancied he saw a brief flash of old pain there before he spoke again.

"So you're here to compete in the Kralti." he rasped in a resigned tone. It was not a question..

Obi-Wan frowned. "Excuse me?"

The old man gave a grating laugh that held no humour. "Oh you'll soon learn, lad. Though you'll wish you hadn't." Then his gaze softened in the face of Obi-Wan's confusion. "Roughly translated Kralti means 'The Games of Death.'"

Obi-Wan's brow rose. That sounded about right. "Yes, I suppose I am," he sighed.

The man nodded his ancient head "I thought as much. Sonu tends to have an eye for good warriors. Though you're the best I've seen pass through here in a while. It's a pity. You look like a nice sort." He gave a weak shrug. "You'll be needing a place to sleep, then. Follow me."

The old man shuffled off and seeing no better option Obi-Wan followed him.

He was led deeper and deeper into the great room., passing by and sometimes being forced to step over the beings occupying the floor space. Shrunken eyes and pale faces lifted to study the Jedi as he walked past their huddled spaces.

Obi-Wan quickly ceased meeting those hollowed gazes, for if he continued he would soon be swallowed in a tide of rage and grief for what had befallen these people.

He was surprised to find that many of them were women and children or older men. The Padawan actually saw very few that looked to be capable of competing in these 'Games of Death.' Confused by this he murmured a question to his new guide, "If Sonu's got such an eye for good competitors, what are all these other people doing here? Surely they can't be expected to fight?"

The old man paused. "They're the families of those chosen," he replied finally. "Sonu seems to think that their presence will motivate his captives. If they refuse to fight their families will be put to death. But if they win then they and their loved ones can go free. But as of yet no competitor has returned from the pits, and the families are left here to rot. Well here we are, lad."

The sudden change took Obi-Wan aback and he saw that his unexpected guide had stopped next to an unoccupied cot.

"There you are," he wheezed and turned to go back the way he had come, alone. "If it'll do you any good, I wish you luck ."

"Wait!" Obi-Wan called out suddenly. The old man halted. "How did you end up here?"

The man kept his back turned but Obi-Wan saw his shoulders slump, making him appear even smaller, even more defeated. He suddenly wished he hadn't asked the hasty question. There was a long silence, then in a whisper Obi-Wan barely detected, the old one answered, "My son." And without another glance he shuffled away, leaving the Jedi standing by his cot, alone and sick at heart.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Days passed. Obi-Wan's injuries from his fight with the guards healed slowly. But as steadily as his physical wounds closed, far more serious ones were being scored across his soul. And they were the ones Obi-Wan was sure would never again be made whole.

As a Jedi he had seen many terrible things throughout the galaxy. But he had never really had to experience first hand the hopelessness and despair caused to people through sheer cruelty and neglect. He saw sights in those first days that he never wanted to see again yet knew for certain that they would haunt his darkest dreams for years to come.

Time passed unmarked in the dim light unchanging. The meaningless hours broken only by the guards bringing the weak gruel that was supposed to nourish the starving, hollow-eyed prisoners.

As a valued warrior, Obi-Wan was fed better than most, but the majority were not so fortunate. Fights over food were common. The strong preyed on the weak, driven by the need to survive. And Obi-Wan could do naught about it, however his heart raged against the injustice.

Disease was as rampant as hunger. The conditions were filthily and infection ran rife among the tight press of bodies. Several succumbed in the short time Obi-Wan had been present, and the wrapped bodies were carried away each morning accompanied by the wail of mothers and the whimper of lonely children.

Then one morning a body was taken that was followed only by silence, seemingly no soul present to mourn its passing. Obi-Wan's sorrowing eyes followed its progression out of the room, wondering who this lonely person had been.

As if in answer to his thoughts, one of the bearers shifted their grip and the shroud covering the still form slipped, revealing an ancient face crowned by thinning white hair.

Unbidden tears stung Obi-Wan's eyes as he recognised the old man that had helped him on his first day. Even though he had only known him for a few minutes, his death layered another stinging welt across Obi-Wan's heart.

And as the empty shell of the man that had been was borne out of sight, the Padawan bowed his head and cast a prayer to the silent Force that his friend had finally found peace in its all encompassing embrace.

Another quickly followed in its wake, this one for himself.

_Master. . . Please find me…._

The next day, as far as he could guess, Obi-Wan lay on his cot, shutting out the stench and filth from his mind, even as he blocked his sight with an arm over his face.

He wasn't allowed to stay that way for very long, however, as he was pulled rudely from his private little world by a polite jab in the ribs. Obi-Wan hissed between his teeth and slowly removed his arm from his face.

Before the collar no one would have been able to catch him unawares like that.

With a resigned sigh the Padawan lifted his gaze to see just who had found reason to disturb him.

To his dismay he found himself staring straight up into the Cobra's sneering face. He had hoped that he'd seen the last of the bounty hunter.

"Get up, little Jedi."

"May I ask what for?" Obi-Wan responded coolly. After what he had seen in these few days he was in no mood for this man.

"Time to prove you were worth all that trouble I went through. Can't have you lying idle getting fat on all our food."

Obi-Wan wanted to retort that it would be impossible for a Hutt to get fat on that slop, and that the bounty hunter should try it.

He held his tongue, however, and rolled smoothly to his feet. Despite the Cobra's assertions, he had not been idle. In an attempt to distract himself from his surroundings the Padawan had spent a lot of his time running through some training katas to keep himself limber. It had been difficult in the limited space but he'd managed.

With the unknown challenges lying ahead it would be unwise to get out of practice.

Several heavily armed guards had accompanied the bounty hunter to escort Obi-Wan to his destination. They turned and started heading for the door.

As Obi-Wan moved to follow them, the Cobra hissed quickly in his ear. "You don't know how long I've waited for this moment, Kenobi," he said. "Pay back time for your little stunt outside the front gates."

Obi-Wan looked at the faint bruising that still decorated the thin man's cheek bones. The bounty hunter obviously hadn't forgiven him for breaking his nose.

The Cobra moved back and gave Obi-Wan another jab in the ribs. "Move."

The heavy doors to the holding bay rolled back as they approached. More men waited outside, guarding against any risk of an uprising. As if the weakened occupants had any energy to spare for trouble anyway.

Sympathetic gazes followed Obi-Wan out. He guessed that the other prisoners believed that this was the last time they'd see him and that he was going to meet his doom.

Maybe he was. And if it came to that then he would meet it as he had been taught. With strength and without fear.

The corridors were still as cold and draughty as he remembered.

The guards lead him on a round about route through the passages but it wasn't long before they drew near yet another set of doors. These were of more normal proportions but no less threatening -- black and impenetrable.

The Cobra stepped boldly forward and raising the butt of his blaster struck the solid door with three heavy blows.

The sound echoed dully through the passage, creating a sense of foreboding within Obi-Wan.

As if they had been waiting for the signal the doors rolled eagerly open, hungrily awaiting their next victim, it seemed.

The Cobra went ahead while the guards hung back, blocking any escape.

There was no need.

Straightening his back and lifting his chin, Obi-Wan stepped forward towards his fate.

The room beyond was small, lit only by primitive, flaming torches affixed to each wall.

In the flickering light Obi-Wan glanced past the Cobra's whip-like form to see that Sonu was waiting for them, standing next to a second door crossed by heavy iron bars. It was the only other exit from this room.

Over the crackle of the torches Obi-Wan could detect a faint roar from beyond those barred doors. The sound of many voices clamouring together in excitement.

"Can you hear them, Obi-Wan?" Sonu asked, the torchlight glittering in eyes lit with anticipation. "They're waiting for you."

There came the faint sound of another iron door rolling aside from somewhere unseen and the roar of the crowd intensified. Obi-Wan swallowed. Just what scum waited beyond those doors.

Sonu seemed pleased by the noise. "You've drawn a full house! Practically unheard of in a first round. You should be honoured, Jedi."

"Oh, beyond words," Obi-Wan said tightly.

Sonu chuckled, "Sarcasm doesn't become you, Kenobi," he said. "Now give the crowd a good show. I've selected one of my best gladiators for you. He hasn't had a challenge in a while and is rather hungry for one. Volunteered for you in fact," Sonu was practically rubbing his hands together. "It will be an interesting match."

The stocky man moved towards Obi-Wan visibly composing his excitment as he gave his instructions. "In the first round no weapons will be used, hand to hand combat only. The match will only end when one of you is unable to fight any more." He grinned in the way Obi-Wan had grown to hate. "Other than that there are no rules."

Another roar from the crowd punctuated his words and Sonu nodded to Cobra. "It's time. Send him in, Cobra. I think they've waited long enough."

The bounty hunter nodded starting to push Obi-Wan towards the door with unconcealed relish.

Obi-Wan drew a breath, a faint hope brushing his mind. "What about the collar?"

Sonu smiled. "That stays on. I might have removed it, but after seeing your escape attempt, I don't think it will hinder you too much."

Obi-Wan's heart sank, his half formed plans falling dead at Sonu's words.

The Cobra started pushing him towards the door again, impatient with the delay.

Obi-Wan gathered himself together as he was manoeuvred to the front of the iron bars, letting go his turbulent emotions as best he could. Another opportunity had been lost to him, but he had to be able to survive this if there was any hope of getting another.

"Open the gates!" Sonu barked to the unseen guardians, and slowly, terribly, the iron bars began to retract. Grinding back into the cold ceiling above.

"Have a nice time, Jedi," the Cobra whispered for his ears only. "Try not to die too quickly." And before Obi-Wan could think of a response the thin bounty hunter shoved him through the opening.

A roar deafened his ears. Reverberating the very air around him as the iron gate slammed closed behind, blocking escape.

Struggling to orientate himself, Obi-Wan straightened, blinking blindly into the bright lights that now shone unforgivingly from above. After so long in the dark the sudden brightness was torture.

Roaring cries continued to assault his ears, harsh voices screaming from every direction. It was almost too much. Too much.

Finally his dazzled eyes adjusted and Obi-Wan got a maiden look at his surroundings.

And immediately his streaming eyes were drawn straight upwards.

High above the sandy floor, curving walls gave way to rows upon rows of stone seats, each line staggering backwards until they met the rock and mortar of the cold roof.

Hundreds of beings occupied those stone benches, all eyes fixed on the pit below. Fixed upon him.

Obi-Wan stared back. Eyes wide with dismay. For staring down on him was the greatest gathering of evil he had ever been forced to witness. Slavers, pirates, smugglers, spice lords. Every kind of lowlife that the Jedi were sworn to destroy was now glaring down on him. Baying for his blood.

"Jedi! Kill the Jedi! Kralti! Kralti!" they chanted over and over.

For the second time in his life, Obi-Wan was almost glad of the collar. For he would surely have staggered under the sheer hatred that was now bearing down on him.

Obi-Wan swallowed and tore his gaze away from that murderous mass, turning his attention on his more immediate surroundings, needing to concentrate. The pit was a circular room. No more than ten meters in diameter. Enclosed by smooth handholdless walls that eventually gave way to--

Obi-Wan snapped his attention back to the floor, noting the thick covering of sand underfoot. His eyes travelled the ground, logging the terrain, trying to block out the brown, rusty stains dotted here and there. Silent testimonies to the fate of those who had come before.

Reaching the other side of the pit, Obi-Wan's eyes suddenly lighted on a pair of heavily booted feet. Obi-Wan lifted his gaze, travelling his sight up the man that had hitherto gone unnoticed.

Standing with easy confidence next to the opposite iron gate, his opponent waited. He was human. A great hulk of a man. Easily the height of Qui-Gon, and twice the bulk. He was shirtless, arrogantly displaying that none of that bulk was owed to soft paunch, but rather bulging muscle and ropy sinew, all sheathed in bronzed skin scarred with much experience.

This was the man Obi-Wan would have to defeat if he hoped to see the light of another day, for looking upon that hard, leering countenance, Obi-Wan could see no room for mercy, no hope of a quick knock down.

Oh, Force.

_Size matters not. Size matters not._ Obi-Wan repeated the mantra to himself like a lifeline. _That better not have been the only time you ever lied to me, Master Yoda_.

Ignoring the jeering crowd, Sonu's gladiator began to move towards Obi-Wan, looking the young Jedi up and down with the air of one completely unimpressed.

When he was two meters away, just close enough to intimidate Obi-Wan with his towering body, he stopped. "I thought Sonu promised me a challenge," he growled sulkily. "And here I stand before a mouse." He snorted. "Yer're no better than the usual rabble that gets thrown in here."

Obi-Wan snuffed out the lick of anger that wanted to flame inside him.

Instead he turned it to strength and he straightened his back, looking the hulking giant straight in his dark eyes.

With a calm he didn't quite feel, he said, "Even mice have teeth."

The gladiator threw back his shaggy head and laughed, the sound of it grating out of his thick throat. "Ha!" he fixed Obi-Wan with his blunt stare once more. "Yer've got spirit, kid, I'll give yer that. M'be this will be some fun after all! M'be I'll play with yer for a while. Like a forest cat plays with its prey before tearing it limb from limb."

Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder, glad that it went unnoticed by his opponent who had now turned back to take up his original position, waiting for some unknown signal.

A sudden hush grew over the crowd leaving the silence of deadly anticipation hanging throughout the pit. And somehow this quiet was worse than the deafening din. Obi-Wan felt his skin prickle.

Long seconds passed, gathering tension, until Sonu's voice split the air, magnified mechanically throughout the room. "Let the Games begin!!"

The answering roar lifted the roof. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped to his massive opponent. The other man gave an inhuman bellow and charged for the Jedi.

Obi-Wan tensed. For one so large he was extremely fast and in seconds he was upon the young man.

Hastily Obi-Wan stepped out of the giant's way, narrowly avoiding the bear hug reaching out to crush the life from him. Each one of those arms were as thick as Obi-Wan's whole body. If he were caught in their embrace, it would all be over.

A fist swung out. Honed reflexes took over and Obi-Wan ducked, deflecting the next punch with the side of his arm, letting it roll past him and to the side. But even a glancing blow was enough to make his arm scream from the impact.

Without the Force the pain blinded him for a second and the next strike got through, hitting Obi-Wan in the midsection. Stunned, Obi-Wan felt his body lift into the air and land in a painful heap a whole meter away.

Gasping, he heard the crowd cheer its approval and saw through vision clouded with black spots his enemy raise his arms above his head playing to their cries before his attention turned back to the crumpled Jedi lying in the sand.

"Kralti! Kralti!" The word pounded.

Obi-Wan fought to draw breath into his bruised body as the giant gladiator stalked over, a cruel smile dancing across his rugged face as he raised both his fists high over the Jedi. Obi-Wan saw his intent and rolled desperately to the side, just as those powerful limbs smashed into the floor beside him, right where his head would have been.

Staggering to his feet, Obi-Wan swung once more to face his massive opponent. And not a moment too late. No sooner had he got his shaking knees locked under him than the man was on him once more.

Obi-Wan danced back, trying to get some space to move, to think, fighting against the fear that was starting to creep into his heart. He was going to lose. And lose badly. The fear built clutching at his throat.

His mind reached blindly for Qui-Gon.

_Master, help me!_

Of course there was no answer, but Obi-Wan had not been Qui-Gon's apprentice for over ten years without some of that infinite wisdom engraining itself deep down inside him, waiting to be called upon.

_Focus, Padawan,_ Obi-Wan could hear his Master's voice as clearly as if it had been spoken in his ear. _Don't try to match his strengths, use his advantage against him._

Obi-Wan's thoughts raced. What could he do? This tower of muscle that he faced now was at least five times his match in strength without the Force to suppliment his own. And he was quick. Very quick.

_Focus_

Obi-Wan drew a breath. He had to be quicker. He was more nimble, more agile and hopefully the more skilled. This man may be an experienced brawler, but he was no Jedi.

Ordering his thoughts and calming his racing pulse, Obi-Wan focused on the fight anew.

The gladiator charged a third time and once again Obi-Wan jumped out of his path. The sand made it hard to move but he managed. The crowd roared it's disapproval.

"Coward!" they screeched. "Jedi coward! Stand and fight like the dog you are!!"

_Not likely_ The thought flitted across Obi-Wan's psyche. There was no way in the Force that he could stand toe to toe with this man.

By now the gladiator had also grown tired of Obi-Wan's evasions. He began to circle the Jedi carefully, calculating his next move.

Obi-Wan waited, his every sense focused on the man prowling around him.

The gladiator drew closer then took a lightening fast backhanded swipe at Obi-Wan's head. The balled fist would have splintered his skull had it been allowed to make contact. But Obi-Wan ducked, letting the arm swing over him. Then he spun as the man's heavy momentum carried him off balance, and landed a kick to the back of a thick knee.

The weight bearing leg buckled, taking the giant to his knees. Quickly Obi-Wan moved to take advantage, cutting his elbow towards the centre of the man's shoulder blades.

But the gladiator was too experienced to stay on his knees for more than two microseconds. He shot to his feet and away before Obi-Wan's blow could find its target.

"Nice try, kid," he sneered. "But yer'll have t' do better than that!"

He swung back at Obi-Wan who barely dodged, then again, swinging for the Jedi's legs, trying to bring him down.

Obi-Wan jumped over a second swipe, tucked and rolled to his feet, putting some distance between them once more.

But this time the gladiator wasn't going to allow him to regroup. In a second he was on Obi-Wan again, swiping, lunging, diving.

Obi-Wan had to bring all his training to bear just to stay one step ahead. He searched for an opening, a pattern.

For long minutes they went on like this, each scoring hits upon the other, Obi-Wan feeling like he'd been hit by a sand crawler each and every time. Whereas the other man hardly seemed to flinch.

He couldn't keep this up. Doggedly Obi-Wan intensified his efforts, evading the lethal grasp. He had to hold on. Just a little longer.

And his persistance began to pay off. He could almost feel his enemy's frustration growing.

Yes. _Come on. Come on. Give me an opening._

Then it happened. The gladiator made a hasty lunge. A final attempt to trap the wily Jedi in his grip. His club like arms shot out, eagerly reaching to close about muddied fabric--or would have done had the space not been completely free of Jedi.

Obi-Wan leaped swinging out with his leg. His boot connected with the gladiator's skull, spinning him round and dropping him to the floor. The crowd roared.

Obi-Wan landed, twisting to face the fresh attack that would surely be upon him.

But none came.

His opponent lay prone upon the floor, unmoving.

The man was unconscious.

Obi-Wan blinked, for a second unable to comprehend what had just happened. Then his swirling brain caught up and relief flooded him. Obi-Wan took a step towards his fallen enemy trying to control his ragged breathing.

He had done it.

Reaching the man's side he stretched out a hand to touch the injured skull.

Which was when he found his wrist clamped in a vicelike grip.

"Gotcha, Jedi."

Dark eyes snapped open, regarding Obi-Wan's horrified face in black triumph.

"That was the dumbest move yer'll ever make."

And with a mighty heave the uninjured gladiator swung to his feet, twisting Obi-Wan round like a puppet even as he brought his other arm up to choke the life out of the startled Jedi.

Obi-Wan's mind blanched. He was trapped. He couldn't escape the grip that was pressing down upon him. He was dead. He had lost. All because of a foolish mistake.

"Kralti! Kralti!" The crowd took up the chant once more.

Obi-Wan's mind raced, searching for a weapon, anything he could use to get away. Then survival instinct took over and Obi-Wan did the most uncivilised thing he had ever done in his whole life.

He bit down on the nearest meaty limb. Hard.

The gladiator howled as Obi-Wan tasted blood and he found himself being flung across the pit. He hit the floor dazed but alive, cursing his stupidity.

On the other side of the room the giant stood nursing his bleeding arm. Then his gaze found his quarry and murder strobed inside those dark depths.

"Yer little--" He bellowed and charged, blood maddened and angry. In his haze of fury he made a blind swipe at Obi-Wan, who spun away from the clumsy strike.

The giant snarled and dived.

Once more the two bloodied warriors closed. The gladiator throwing every caution to the winds, thirsting now in his need to kill the Jedi.

Obi-Wan tried. Force knew he did. But no amount of speed and wily evasion could protect him from such an onslaught. Exhaustion began to pull at him, sucking away at his advantage. One arm hung nearly dead by his side from one lucky and particularly savage blow.

He had to do something. And fast.

Dodging yet another frezied attack. Obi-Wan took a swing of his own, putting all his remaining strength behind his strike, catching the gladiator in the mouth. The lip split.

The seething warrior yelled in pain, but the move was an ultimate mistake.

Fury surged through the great body, lending speed to a savage kick. Obi-Wan did not have time to blink before the crushing blow caught him full in the side.

The hit flung him clean across the room. Obi-Wan felt his head and body impact with the wall and fire chewed up his side. His ribs were broken.

Unconsciousness swirled, trying to get him to succumb to its soothing depths. Down. Down.

Through his darkening senses Obi-Wan heard a distant bellow of triumph and the ground seemed to shake. Blinking he looked up to see, as if in slow motion, his blood-maddened enemy charging towards him like an enraged Reek, fully intent on smashing him flat against the wall.

_Move!_ Something deep inside him demanded. _Move, damn you_

And without knowing what power provided him with the strength, Obi-Wan moved.

In the same instant there came a sickening crunch and a heavy thud.

Obi-Wan blinked stupidly at the crumpled figure of his enemy, now lying silently upon the ground beside him, half expecting him to rise once more.

Long seconds passed but the dreaded movement never came.

Crimson blood seeped into the sand from an open head wound, adding to its already extensive collection of grizzly marks. Directly above, the wall had cracked.

In his bloodlust, the gladiator had smashed against it, unable to stop himself.

And now he lay unmoving at Obi-Wan's feet.

The crowd was wild.

But Obi-Wan barely registered any of it. He could only stand stupidly, swaying on feet that no longer wanted to hold him, staring at the shallow breathing of his enemy whilst tasting the bitter, iron tang of blood upon his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Obi-Wan woke to the sound of bleeping machinery. His head swirled with fog and swiftly he fought to clear it. The bleeping grew louder, faster.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, lifting himself quickly into a half sitting position, every muscle tense. Visions of blood and sand lingered behind his eyes.

Swiftly he cast around, half expecting to see a blood maddened giant reaching to catch him.

But there was nobody, just himself and an empty room. His heart rate slowly calmed. He was no longer in the pit. That place of death.

He now lying on a narrow cot surrounded by monitoring equipment. The room was pale and devoid of any colour or distinguishing feature. Only one plain door allowed passage in or out.

Naturally.

He didn't even have to brush his neck to know that the repellor was still there.

He hadn't really expected any different and he accepted the inescapable with a tired sigh.

Surmising that he was as safe as he could be for the moment, Obi-Wan lay back again, having neither the will or the strength to keep sitting up. Visions of what had transpired continued to strobe through his mind, harsh and unforgiving.

What had he done? Where had his life suddenly gone so wrong? How could he find himself in this position? Having to fight and injure for his survival. And for what? Not in the defence of an innocent, nor in the defence of a planet, but for sport. For entertainment.

The very thought went against all that he was. And he couldn't escape it.

The vision of his opponent lying prone at his feet, a crimson puddle expanding beneath his head swam before Obi-Wan's eyes, and he screwed them shut. He could still smell the scent of blood on the air.

His stomach roiled.

His attention was diverted when two people, a bothen and another human, entered the room. They were dressed in plain, long white coats so Obi-Wan guessed that they were healers.

Closing the single door carefully behind them, they moved to check on the monitors surrounding Obi-Wan's bed. His quickened heart rate had probably alerted them to the fact that he was now awake.

They did not speak but silently went about their work. They assessed his vitals and scanned his arm. Strapped and heavily bandaged, as were his ribs. Numb, Obi-Wan did not resist their ministrations but he watched them carefully.

Eventually they seemed satisfied that all was in order and turned to leave.

But Obi-Wan found he could not let them go without asking. He had to know something if he was to have one small bit of peace. "Wait," he called them round at the door. He didn't know if he would get an answer but he had to try. He had to know. "The other man. The one I fought. Is he…" Obi-Wan swallowed. "Is he… alright?"

The healers appeared surprised by such a question and looked as if they would turn away again without a word.

"Please," Obi-Wan beseeched. "I have to know."

Grudgingly the bothen answered. "He'll live, Jedi. Though maybe you should have killed him when you had the chance."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I am a Jedi, I would never take a life unnecessarily."

The bothen gave a toothy grin. "Who ever said it was unnecessary. He will not rest knowing you defeated him. You'd better watch your back from now on, boy." With that both healers turned and left.

Obi-Wan stared after them for a long moment then lay back with a sigh, suddenly wishing he hadn't spoken. Now he felt worse than ever.

So that was it. Kill or be killed.

Despair washed through him and a silent tear slipped down his cheek. Reaching into his tunic he closed his good hand around the stone waiting inside.

_Master, how am I going to survive any more of this?_

But this time his emptied out heart could provide no answer.

Two days later, Obi-Wan was shoved back through the heavy doors of the slave housing.

He was not yet fully healed but at least this place was preferable to the infirmary. There he had had nothing to stare at but four blank pale walls, nothing to do but relive every terrible moment that had befallen him since leaving his Master on the landing pad and the hopeless days that stretched before him. Violence and pain without end.

Swiftly he shut his mind down and tested his injured arm. It was still sore and stiff but at least it was usable.

Slowly he became aware of startled eyes staring at him across the room. His sudden reappearance was causing quite a stir amongst the other prisoners. Obviously no one here had expected to see him again.

To tired to spare them any notice Obi-Wan moved stiffly back to his bunk, planning on doing nothing more than collapsing upon it and forgetting the world for a while.

To his relief the space was still unoccupied and Obi-Wan cast himself down upon the waiting matress. He no longer cared about the dirt. He just wanted to sleep. To escape the misery if only for a moment. The 'healers' had not allowed him much rest these last few days. Nor had his thoughts.

His plans of escape were ruined however when the guards entered with what passed for the morning meal.

Obi-Wan sat up a ways, blankly regarding the unfolding scene.

As expected, the arrival was met with the usual mêlée. Families scrambled for the best helpings to feed their young. There were shouts and heated arguments.

Obi-Wan himself didn't care about eating right now. The healers had forced food upon him in the sick bay. But they were not here to do so now. And he chose to forego the sustainance. It was foolish and defeatist of him. He knew that. He needed to keep his strength up if there was to be anything left of him worth rescuing.

But he couldn't bring himself to stomach anything. Not yet. Maybe when he'd finally had a chance to work through all the things he had witnessed and done since he'd left here, released his pain and confusion. But not right now. He just couldn't bring himself to care for anything. Least of all that watered down sawdust masquerading as food.

Lying back down Obi-Wan just settled on staring listlessly at the ceiling--

That was until an unexpected commotion across the room drew him back up again.

At first Obi-Wan expected to see the guards savagely breaking up another desperate fight over rations. Sonu's men enjoyed any excuse to use brutal force against their helpless charges. Obi-Wan had quickly learned to stay out of such situations. He only ended up doing more harm than good

However, to Obi-Wan's surprise, this time no guards were present. Just prisoners joined in an escalating struggle.

Still Obi-Wan did not make a move until the anguished cries of a child began to ring out, coming right from the center of that seething mass.

The cries tore through his numb melancholy and woke him with a slap.

It was a sound the adult of any species was programmed to respond to, and Obi-Wan was on his feet and across the room before he was even really aware of rising from his bunk.

Without any thought to the risk of confronting such a highly charged group alone, Obi-Wan raised his voice above the noise, injecting as much authority into his young tone as possible. "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

Silence fell over the tense atmosphere. All eyes turned on Obi-Wan and as the wall of bodies shifted the Padawan was able to spy a small boy huddled on the floor among the legs of the adults. A small loaf of stale bread was gripped tenaciously in the tiny fists.

Sickened to the core by such a callous display, Obi-Wan returned his burning gaze to the bullying group, eyes flashing a dangerous steel blue.

"Nobody will touch that child again while I am standing here!" The tone of his voice dared them to disobey.

Several of the more burly prisoners glowered and looked as if they might challenge him. Obi-Wan held his ground. He had never been physically imposing but the steel in his eyes was enough to make the larger men think twice. Grudgingly most backed away. Apparently surviving in the pit had given the other prisoners a healthy respect for the Jedi, if not a little fear.

It was a reputation that Obi-Wan was quite glad of at the moment.

Only one stood his ground. A tall man who might once have been an imposing figure stood firm before him, staring with eyes made bitter and hard, forged by anger and bare need.

"So noble, Jedi," he ground out, "but that won't save you. Ideals count for nothing in this place, just survival and that's all we're doing here."

Obi-Wan was unmoved. "Does that justify mobbing and taking food from helpless children?!" he asked incredulously.

The man snorted. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore. I've got my own mouths to feed." He looked Obi-Wan up and down. "You've not been here long, Jedi, so you don't understand yet. Just give it some more time and you'll be just like us. It's happening already. I saw the hopelessness in your eyes when you returned. And things will only get worse. You'll see. In the end you'll be just like us."

Obi-Wan straightened. The words went to his heart. Yes, he had felt it. Had been ready to give into the despair of it all, but no more. Nothing would cause him to become this. He would die first. He fixed the man with a hard stare. "I will _never_ become you."

The man stared back, anger stirred briefly in the dark depths. Maybe he meant to argue some more. Fight Obi-Wan for what he stood in the way of. But another prisoner suddenly caught his arm, shaking her head. Grudgingly, the man relented and backed away. Muttering and mumbling the aggressive group dispersed, trailing back empty-handed to their waiting families.

Obi-Wan let go a long breath and uncurled his fists. That had been tense. But no time was spared to reflect on what had just passed. He looked straight down, searching for the child he had just saved.

He was gone.

Obi-Wan frowned.

The boy had obviously seized the opportunity of Obi-Wan's distraction and escaped into some hidey-hole.

Wise move, given the circumstances. But he would not escape a Jedi's notice for long.

And nor did he. After a quick glance around Obi-Wan spied a small rag-bound foot sticking out from a large hole in the wall. The giant stones had cracked and crumbled away creating a sort of cave. It was too small for an adult to get inside but it was the perfect fit for an enterprising child to take cover in.

With a slight smile Obi-Wan moved over to the wall and crouched down.

"Hello, there," he said as brightly as he could.

But that was as far as he got. Now that he'd found the child, he was suddenly quite unsure of how to proceed. He had never been especially disposed towards small children.

_Master, where are you?_

Now more than ever he longed for his Master's easy presence. Qui-Gon would know what to do here, Obi-Wan just felt awkward.

Quickly he scanned the room in the hopes of seeing a worried parent, anyone. But with a sinking feeling his search turned up nothing. No searching face. No call. The child was obviously an orphan of the prison.

With no protection it was not hard to see why he had become an easy target for opportunists.

Shaking his head at the madness of it all, Obi-Wan returned his attention to the cowering child.

"Are you going to come out?" he asked.

The sound of his voice caused the child to shiver and curl further away. The small face was kept turned from Obi-Wan.

"It's okay," the young Jedi tried to soothe, "I'm not going to hurt you, and I don't want your bread." Obi-Wan touched the boy's trembling arm. "Come on out."

The child started and protested with a panicked cry. "Ni, ni! Ottala, ni!"

Obi-Wan tilted his head. He had not recognised any of that. The child must not speak any Basic. He couldn't understand a word of what he was saying.

Obi-Wan sighed. He was getting off to a good start.

He peered at the child.

Actions must speak louder than words here. Gathering his patience, Obi-Wan waited the boy out. He placed a hand upon the thin shoulder, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth in the hopes of soothing the faint tremors that he felt in the small body.

After what seemed like endless minutes he succeeded. The tremors eased and the boy finally relaxed his rigid posture. Cautiously he uncoiled and cast Obi-Wan a questioning look through the shadows.

Obi-Wan immediately stepped back and opened his palms in the universal gesture of meaning no harm. Inviting the child to come out

Still the boy hesitated. Once out it may be impossible to get back in, Obi-Wan could read that much.

Taking a risk he once again extended a hand to the child. "Come on," he said hoping the gentle tone would speak for him.

He was pleased to see that this time the young boy did not draw away. He seemed to be desperate for some kind of contact and that alone was enough to overcome his suspicions. Tentatively he reached out one small hand and gripped Obi-Wan's fingers.

Obi-Wan graced him with a wide smile, letting it twinkle in his blue-green eyes before pulling the child out.

The boy stared up into his face as Obi-Wan lifed him and Obi-Wan was unexpectedly taken aback. The large eyes were the most startling colour. Golden-yellow. The colour of the desert.

For a long moment they regarded one another. Desert meeting the summer sea. And the boy drank him in, the first kind touch he had known in a long time.

"Well that wasn't so bad, was it," Obi-Wan smiled.

In answer the boy buried his face in Obi-Wan's shoulder, clutching tightly to his battered tunic.

Tenderness shot through Obi-Wan's heart. Shifting, he secured his grip around the child. "Everything's alright, little one. You're safe now. I won't let anything hurt you."

And he meant it.

The boy needed him. He had nobody else. And neither did he. Maybe the Force, wherever it was, had somehow brought two needing souls together.

Who was he to question?

With nothing else to do he began to make his way back to his abandoned bunk, the child held protectively in his arms. Distantly he surmised that Qui-Gon would have a field day, if he could see him right now.

But he didn't care. He would take care of this child until his dying breath.

And as he lowered his armful onto the waiting bunk, he knew that oath had given him new reason to survive...


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Ow!!" Obi-Wan shot upright, or at least tried to. He moved only a few inches and had to stop for the cutting pain. It felt like there was a great weight trying to tear the hair from his skull.

"In the name of--!" Blue-green eyes glared over the edge of the cot, nailing the grinning child sitting at its base.

In point of fact there _was_ a great weight trying to tear his hair off. His braid dangled over the side, the end clutched in one small fist.

Seeing that the Padawan was awake, the child squirmed with delight and gave the braid another tug.

"Ow! Stop that." Obi-Wan scowled angrily, but in truth it was hard to stay irritated when faced with such a beaming smile. "That's not a pull string with which to wake me up."

Oblivious to his words the child just beamed some more and waved the hand clutching Obi-Wan's hair. "Ben, Ben," he said.

Obi-Wan shook his head, carefully, exasperated. "No, not 'Ben'. I'm Obi-Wan." He pointed at the child. "You're Kyan." He then pointed at himself and spoke very carefully for what seemed like the millionth time. "Oh-Be-Wan."

It had been no problem for him to learn the child's name, discerning it from all the inane babble that came from his lips. He had not counted upon his own name being so hard to get across.

"Oh-Be-Wan."

The golden eyes brightened. "Ben," the word was spoken with finality.

Obi-Wan sighed but was spared further effort by the arrival of breakfast. Or what passed for it. That soggy sawdust masquerading as food could be called anything but.

The guards made their entrance through the main doors, flanked predictably by hulking Wookies toting blaster rifles. Obi-Wan watched as the ensuing scrum of desperate prisoners unfolded, but despite his hunger he remained where he was, biding his time. He had learned to wait for the initial rush to die down before making his move, but to time it so that there was still plenty left when he did finally make his approach.

Soon enough the arguments and the scuffles calmed and Obi-Wan knew that the chance had come. The worst of the bullies had gotten their share. The crowd was easier. Now was the time.

Prying Kyan's fingers from around his hair, Obi-Wan got up and leaned down to swipe out the two small bowls he kept stashed underneath the bed, before striding purposefully towards the nearest guard. Kyan followed closely.

The guard turned as he approached. The rough lip curled before he scooped some of the thin gruel from his large serving bowl and slopped it carelessly into Obi-Wan's offered dish. Though irritated, Obi-Wan had long since learned to let the insolent behaviour pass over him.

A chuck of dry bread was then dumped unceremoniously on top of the soggy mixture and the dismissive guard began to turn away.

"Excuse me," Obi-Wan called him back, deliberately throwing on his most polite tones. The burly man turned round, a dangerous glint of irritation in his eyes as he surveyed the ragged prisoner that dared to stand there like a demanding prince. Unphased, Obi-Wan held out the second bowl. "A little something for the boy, perhaps," He nodded down at Kyan, who was huddled around his ankles.

The guard gave a low growl, the look on his face suggesting that he'd rather just shoot Obi-Wan right there and then, but nevertheless grudgingly ladled out a second helping.

Being Sonu's favourite certainly had its perks, Obi-Wan thought, and he was determined to use them all to his full advantage.

He had Kyan to care for now. He could not afford to be proud.

The second serving was considerably smaller than the first, but despite everything Obi-Wan knew just how far to push his luck.

"Thank you so much for your generosity," he said in the same mock politeness as he stretched a short bow.

A muscle in the guard's cheek gave a satisfying twitch as Obi-Wan turned on his heel and strode away, the little boy trotting along in his wake.

Back at their cot, Obi-Wan set the bowls down and carefully evened up the rations before helping Kyan onto the mattress. The boy could get down easily enough, usually finding it highly hilarious to use Obi-Wan's braid to do so, but he was as yet too small to climb up unassisted.

"There we go," Obi-Wan said, getting the child settled and placing the smaller bowl in his hands. Kyan's strange golden eyes blinking gratefully up at him before he started to slurp hungrily at his breakfast, his little legs swinging contentedly over the side.

Obi-Wan smiled secretly at the scene. "Uncivilized pup," he mock grumbled.  
Kyan paid him no mind so Obi-Wan continued to watch him carefully. Even after just a few days of being under Obi-Wan's protection, the Padawan could already see an improvement. The little face was no longer drawn and sunken. His energies had improved and he had grown in confidence, though he still tended to shy away if Obi-Wan moved too suddenly. And his eyes burned with renewed brightness. Obi-Wan was glad.

Lifting his own bowl the Padawan began to pick though his own foul breakfast, grimacing on each bite. How could he have ever complained about his Master's cooking?

The idle thought was like a knife to his heart.

A lump rose in his throat and Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut to hide the sudden burn of tears. How long had it been now since he had teased Qui-Gon over breakfast? He missed his Master so much it hurt. He wondered what Qui-Gon was doing now. How was he coping with his supposed 'death'?

Obi-Wan shook his head quickly. He knew those sort of thoughts couldn't help him, only make him feel worse, but he couldn't help thinking and he knew he would trade anything he had just to be back with Qui-Gon now -- to sit with his Master in their quarters and share a slightly burned breakfast made with love. Tell him how much he appreciated it.

The burn of tears increased until Obi-Wan forced them away, refocusing on Kyan. The child was still slurping happily on his sodden mush, oblivious to Obi-Wan's sudden sadness. Unlike him the little boy had never known anything other than this hell.

Obi-Wan's heart twisted anew as he looked again at the child that was just this side of emaciated. The pain was quickly surpassed by a sharp sense of embarrassment. As a Jedi he was used to people claiming his life was a hard one and before today he would have readily agreed. Now he found himself truly humbled by this youngling seated before him.

Who truly had had the hard life? When he was this boy's age Obi-Wan would never have known what it was to be hungry, to have to fight for a morsel of food. Since he was a baby he had been surrounded by peace and tranquillity, by Masters who had attended his every need. He had never known hate. He had never known fear. And the choice to face the darkness in this galaxy was his alone.

This child had no choice. Yet here he sat surrounded by greed and filth, while happily eating food most children would view as poison, and there was no bitterness. No complaint.

And he shouldn't have to do it!

And he wouldn't.

A renewed determination seized Obi-Wan then, his face grew grim as it burnt through his melancholy. He _would_ get out of here. In all the days that he had been here he had occupied his mind with searching for means of escape. But his efforts to find a way out had always come to nothing. He had felt his hope begin to wane and his frustration mount, though he hid both from Kyan. But there _had_ to be a way. The very first opportunity he found he would take. He would get back to Qui-Gon. And when he did he would take this child with him. Obi-Wan would see to it that he never know hunger or hate ever again. He would take him where he would be loved and want for nothing.

Vow sealed, Obi-Wan settled to reluctantly continue with his own meal. Unlike the child he had known better.

The rest of breakfast passed without incident, the silence broken only by the odd noisy slurp by Kyan. When all was finally consumed the boy placed his bowl aside and licked his lips so as to savour every drop.

Obi-Wan put his own bowl down. "All finished?" he asked. Kyan just looked at him expectantly. "Ready for some exercise?"

The boy smiled and bobbed up and down eagerly. Obi-Wan could tell he still didn't understand a word he was saying, but just seemed to be liking the attention. Obi-Wan smiled back at him and offered his hand. "Come on, then."

He lead the boy a short way to a space free of cots and bodies, a place he had adopted as his workout area. He had no idea when he would be called upon to go back into the pit, but he didn't think it would be long now. He was determined to keep in shape. Not to do so would be fatal. So every morning and every evening he ritually moved to this very spot to run through his Jedi stretches and katas, at least the ones that didn't involve too many spinning manoeuvres. And his efforts had paid off. His injured arm was almost returned to its full strength.

There was no real reason for Kyan to join him, but the boy would not be left alone, so he always followed. Obi-Wan did not mind. At first the boy had just stared at him like he was mad. Then he seemed to grow amused by Obi-Wan's antics, laughing and clapping when Obi-Wan achieved and held a particularly tricky position, or flipped over in the air. By and by he started to try and copy. Attempting to balance on one leg, or stand on his hands. He would always end up in an undignified heap, but this only caused him to laugh more.

Obi-Wan laughed with him, grateful, the little boy had turned these sessions from a dull necessity into a happy time for both, overshadowing the fact that Qui-Gon was not there to mirror each action perfectly as he had always done and blotted out the suffocating feeling of the collar.

Reaching the floor Obi-Wan began to limber up, stretching each muscle assessingly. His arm was still slightly stiff and his ribs tender, but he was confident that should he be called back the injuries wouldn't hinder him too much.

A crease formed between his brows. Who would he have to face this time? Would he end up with a string of opponents he had to 'watch his back' against? Obi-Wan sighed before pushing the matter from his mind. It didn't matter. He had no choice.

He was just beginning to run through the first of his katas when suddenly without warning Kyan gave a small cry. There was terror in the golden eyes as he fled from the floor, diving quickly to hide behind the sheets of their cot.

Bewildered, Obi-Wan started after him. "Kyan, What--?"

"Jedi."

The hackles on the back of Obi-Wan's neck rose at the voice. The reason behind Kyan's flight suddenly became clear. His mood plummeted.

"Cobra." He turned to find the lean bounty hunter standing a few meters away, hands folded behind his back, seemingly untouched by the conditions around him.

"I'm glad to see you're keeping in practice, Jedi," he said. "Sonu would be most displeased if you became a disappointment now."

Obi-Wan stood rigidly. "What are you doing here?" he asked shortly, though he had a sinking feeling that he already knew. The time of waiting was over. "It's certainly not pass the time of day with me."

"Unfortunately no." The Cobra's emotionless face gave way to a feral grin. "It is time again to prove your worth, Jedi. All is ready for the second round and Sonu is waiting. Best not make him impatient."

_You're really enjoying this, aren't you,_ Obi-Wan thought darkly as the Cobra nodded and two heavily armed guards materialised upon either side of him.

"Let's go."

The guards began to hustle Obi-Wan forward but they didn't get far before a distressed cry suddenly rent the air.

Obi-Wan stiffened. _Kyan, no!_

But it was too late. Forgetting his fears the little boy launched himself out of his hiding place and quickly fastened his arms around Obi-Wan's legs.

_"Ni! Ni! Dinachi' nu, Ben. Ni!"_

In the blink of an eye the two guards had their blasters trained on the quaking child.

"Kill him," Cobra waved his hand dismissively.

Fear slid through Obi-Wan's guts like ice. "No!" He raised both hands desperately. "Don't hurt him!"

The guards paused, flicking glances between Obi-Wan and the bounty hunter scum holding their leash.

A cruel smile flickered over the Cobra's face. "Why shouldn't I, Jedi?"

Anger licked at Obi-Wan. He fixed burning blue eyes on the Cobra. "Hurt him and you will get nothing further out of me."

The smile became fixed. "We will, Jedi. We are in control here. I can make you do whatever I want."

"Not if I'm dead," Obi-Wan's eyes were dangerously resolute. "And that's what it will take. If you want to hurt him, you'll have to kill me first."

"Your life means nothing to me, Jedi!" the bounty hunter spat.

"Undoubtedly. But I get the idea that it matters to Sonu. What would he do to you, Cobra, if he found out that you were responsible for the death of his favourite? I can't imagine it would be anything nice." Obi-Wan's voice was now icy cool. He had the upper hand here, and they both knew it.

The Cobra's eye twitched, mind working furiously as he watched Obi-Wan sink into a ready stance, the child hugging his legs as the guards fingered their triggers. A titanic internal struggle passed beneath the long face before he spat, "Fine! Keep the brat. What do I care. We're running out of time. Just deal with him before I have my guards take him somewhere and lock him up."

Tight lipped, Obi-Wan nodded. He reached down and lifted Kyan into his arms. The little body was quaking and Obi-Wan tried to soothe him as he carried him back to the cot. Placing him down on the mattress Obi-Wan crouched until they were at eye level. "You have to stay here now, Kyan," he said gently. "I have to go for a little while, but you have to stay. Understand?"

_"Ni! Ni!"_ Kyan swept forward, closing his arms around Obi-Wan's neck.

Heart rending in two, Obi-Wan let him hold him for a little while. He wished he had the Force so he could make the child understand, but he felt the Cobra shift impatiently behind him and knew he had to do his best without it.

Prying the child's arms from around his neck, Obi-Wan sat him back and held him firmly between his hands. "Stay here, Kyan," he said, locking eyes with the child and willing him to understand. "Stay here and I will come back." He touched the child's cheek. "I will come back. I promise." He gestured to himself and then to the cot and at last the boy seemed to understand, though the fear did not leave his eyes.

_"Ni,"_ he whispered.

"Stay," Obi-Wan said then rose, leaving the child behind as he followed the guards from the prison. He nevertheless felt Kyan's tear filled eyes follow him all the way to the door.

For the second time in just over a week Obi-Wan was lead through the draughty corridors. But not in the same direction. The cold stone passageways brushed past him, hollow and unfeeling. Unfailingly identical. But even without the Force, Obi-Wan was quick to pick up on the fact that he was being taken somewhere different.

It couldn't be the pit that waited for him then.

What now?

As he walked he worked to keep his heart rate low. To maintain his calm composure. Now that he didn't have Kyan to reassure it was difficult. The last time he had gone into the arena he had barely escaped with his life. This time would undoubtedly be more difficult, more deadly. He didn't think Sonu's crowd would settle for anything less.

Thus it was Obi-Wan knew that he could very well be walking to his own execution at the hands of what ever monster Sonu had chosen to throw at him this time.

His hand moved to the collar around his neck, worrying at it. The cool metal bit at his fingers. He wanted nothing more to tear it away from his flesh, to breath again and let the comfort of the Force soothe his fears.

Recoiling from the unforgiving metal, his hand instinctively drifted from the choking collar to the warmth radiating from his breast pocket. The weight of the River stone comforted him in place of the Force. A go between for him and the power that he could no longer feel himself.

It was there. The Stone would not lie. Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, banishing his creeping fears and refocusing on the ordeal ahead. No matter what happened, he would not go down without a fight.

Finally the Cobra halted the little group outside yet another set of massive stone doors. With the butt of his blaster he knocked three times upon the heavy gateway. The announcement was acknowledged and the doors ground open under some unseen force.

An antechamber waited beyond, much the same as the last, bare, circular and lit by dozens of flaming torches. Their light danced a depraved rhythm upon the solemn walls, the heat from them warming Obi-Wan's cold skin even as the sight of Sonu and the sound of a distant but horribly familiar roar chilled his soul. The effect made Obi-Wan shiver.

Another blood thirsty crowd waited for him in the arena beyond this deceptively calm island. And it was bigger than the last.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," Sonu said, moving from the centre of the room with the cheer that was always there but never seemed to reach his calculating eyes. "I trust you are well?"

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. "As can be expected under the circumstances."

Sonu's smile broadened, though it still fell short of his eyes. "That's the spirit. And as you should be. You should know, my Jedi, that in jut one fight you have broken all records. You're famous! Beings are coming from all over the sector just to watch you. There is a crowd out there the like of which has never been seen in the history of a gladiatorial arena."

Obi-Wan tilted his head. "I'm honoured." He answered but he wasn't really heeding the hateful man's words. He was focusing his mind on what lay ahead. He just wished Sonu would get past his gloating and tell him what he was expected to do.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the stocky man stepped forward, pulling something from beneath a new velvet lined cloak.

He hadn't had that before Obi-Wan observed. Sonu was obviously making sure he did well out of his new pet's 'fame'.

With a flourish Sonu placed a vibroshiv into his right hand. "You may be needing this, Jedi," he said with an eager light in his eyes.

Obi-Wan looked down at the weapon and then at Sonu, waiting.

"This is the second round of Kralti," Sonu started. "Inside the arena is a climbing frame. Your goal is to reach the top before your opponent by any means necessary. But do not fall. Do not fall, Jedi. Once you are on the frame an energy field will be activated beneath your feet. If you fall the charge is powerful enough to disable you for days. It has been known to kill smaller beings. Do not fall. Reach the top with your weapon. The sensor embedded within the rock can only be reached by the tip of this blade. Don't lose it. Touch the sensor and you will have won and earned yourself a place in the next round."

_Huh,_ Obi-Wan thought as he absorbed the information silently. He felt slightly relieved. This was not a test of size or strength, but agility and speed. He looked again at the vibroshiv. His Jedi training would help him a great deal in this.

He drew a long breath and centred himself. He was ready.

"Do you understand your objective?" he heard Sonu ask.

Obi-Wan nodded stiffly.

"Well then, what are we waiting for!" Sonu rubbed his thick hands together. "Good luck to you, Jedi. May you continue to make me the richest man in the sector."

Obi-Wan grimaced as Sonu signalled eagerly and the hitherto silent Cobra drifted forward to push him towards the doors leading into the waiting arena.

A horn sounded and the roar of the crowd reached new fever pitch. Thick anticipation could be tasted on the air, turning Obi-Wan's stomach.

The stone doors ground open and Obi-Wan was hit once more by the noise and the dark stench of evil. But he had been ready for it this time and he did not recoil as he stepped forth into the arena, head held high.

Into darkness. There were none of the flaring lights from last time to blind his eyes, instead he found himself blinded by near blackness.

Unnervingly he could not see the crowd, only hear it. The door locked shut behind him taking the last of the light and glimmer of heat with it.

Folding his arms around himself to ward off the sudden chill, he waited for his eyes to adjust, breath clouding the crisp air before him.

The first thing to become apparent was the massive structure rising up from the bones of the floor. A mighty scaffold of many limbs, rungs and ropes. It nearly filled the entire arena, rising up and up until it disappeared into the shadows above.

'Climbing frame' did not do it justice. A fall from just half way up could be fatal. Never mind an energy field.

Taking his eyes off the monstrous metal skeleton before him, Obi-Wan began to search the other side of the room for his opponent. He caught a movement and focused on it, but saw only shadows. He could make nothing out. He only just stopped himself trying to use the Force to aid him. The shock of it not being there when he called still had the power to shatter him.

Thus it was that he still had not caught a glimpse of his adversary by the time the horn bleared for the game to begin.

He would find out soon enough.

Stepping forward he took hold of the first rung of the scaffold and pulled himself up, working his vibroshiv around his grip. The cool metal seeped into his fingers as he melded himself to the structure. Looking up as far as he could see, Obi-Wan began to plan his assent. Seeking the fastest route.

He was so absorbed by this that the activation of the energy field nearly shocked him right off his perch. From all sides there was a sudden explosion of blue light. It snapped and hissed beneath him, licking eagerly at his feet suspended just inches above. Despite himself Obi-Wan swallowed hard and gripped the rails with new fervour. The blue light from the field now cast an eerie glow into the shadows above. He could just make out the crowd now. Or at least their eyes, glittering eagerly down through the dark to find him far below, waiting.

Turning his own eyes away from them, Obi-Wan quickly began to climb. A light click on the far side of the scaffold said that his opponent had also started to move.

Obi-Wan concentrated, carefully selecting his hand and footholds. The spaces were random and uneven but Obi-Wan was quick to compensate. His progress was sure and swift. Within minutes he was high above the ground.

The attack when it came, took him completely by surprise.

The hiss of a rope was all he heard before a vibroshiv flashed out and caught him across the shoulders.

Obi-Wan cried out in surprise and pain even as the crowd roared and cheered. The blow had been glancing but his tunic was torn and he felt the blood trickle down his back.

His opponent was attacking him.

_By any means necessary_ suddenly took on a whole new meaning.

Gritting his teeth Obi-Wan clutched his own weapon more tightly as he quickly renewed his climb. This time he listened carefully for any telltale swishes or creaks. Whoever was out there had surprised him. They would not do so again so easily.

Another strike but grimly Obi-Wan avoided it. Just. Clinging on as he moved he strained his ears. The dark pressed on his eyes.

He struck out at a perceived shadow. His arm met empty air. His enemy was not there.

Sharp pain as a blade nicked his cheek. Again Obi-Wan's counter met empty air, passing harmlessly through the cold air. His enemy taunted him with his blindness.

Whip, crack, before Obi-Wan could even think the scaffold rattled. He barely swung aside on one arm as a pair of booted feet lashed out at his midsection, attempting to kick him right off into oblivion. Before he could recover they vanished back into the dark. A blade slashed out and made a cut for his clinging hand.

Obi-Wan moved just in time to save his fingers. Quickly he climbed away, eyes searching the dark now with frantic desperation. Nothing. What was this that he faced?! His fear and frustration boiled quickly to the fore. His resolve was rattled. All of a sudden he felt exposed and helpless.

His hand came up to claw at the collar anew. He couldn't see! He wanted -needed- the Force now. He was lost without it.

A slash to his arm whipped him round. Obi-Wan grabbed a nearby rope and swung away, letting it carry him round the structure, hoping to put some distance between him and this phantom hunter. He needed to get away.

On the other side he began to climb again, hastily powering himself up. Meter after meter. He had to get to the top. His ears raked the dark as the ground quickly became a distant memory. He tried not to look down at the dizzying drop now stretching away below him. If he fell now it would be bad news. And he was not yet even near half way up.

Sooner than he expected his injured arm began to ache under the strain of hauling his weight. His ribs burned and his hands flamed on the scaffold. He had nothing with which to soothe them but he continued raggedly on, defying the increasing gravity that sought to pull him backwards to his death. All the time knowing that his enemy could strike at any instant. Every slight vibration made him tense.

The not knowing, the not being able see wore at him psychologically. It threw his blindness to the Force into stark new relief, fuelling his fear and doubt. He was being toyed with. His enemy could have killed him twice over now. It was just revelling in his helplessness.

Obi-Wan swallowed. A clank of metal made him jump. His head whipped round searching. Nothing. Silence once more except for the pounding off his heart and the harsh scrape of his breath.

He wished now that he was back in the other arena, trading blows with the giant. At least then he knew where the threat was coming from and where it would strike. He felt helpless and naked, like a piece of meat hanging from the scaffold ready to be diced and devoured.

He shuddered as he forced his body to climb on. Jumping at every sound.

Another ladder. Another leap to the next bar. Eyes straining into the shadows.

Half way.

The noise level from the crowd began to increase. It told Obi-Wan that he was drawing near to the level of the stands.

A sudden thought stuck his brain. Could he swing from here into the crowd and escape? The girth of the scaffold extended near to the outer walls. With an effort he could get there. Where the audience came in there must be exits. Lots of them. And transports, fewer guards.

Sonu had finally slipped. He had his opportunity.

Hope flooded him lending extra strength to his muscles. The chance of a way out called him on.

Still keeping his senses tuned for another invisible attack, he hurried on.

But his respite had ended. Another hiss from an unseen rope told him that his enemy was coming in for another strike.

_No!_ Obi-Wan gathered his strength and leaped upwards, catching hold of the bars several levels above and dragged himself out of reach. Sparks flared in the darkness as an unseen blade scorched the scaffold right where Obi-Wan's neck had been.

Sticky, salty moisture trickled down Obi-Wan's back, stinging his wounds. The smell of mingling sweat and blood filled his nostrils together with the tang of metal. He was living only by the skin of his teeth and that missed blow told him that his enemy had grown tired of toying with him. That blow had been meant to kill.

He had to get out of here. Now. He was fighting a phantom.

Desperately he looked up and to his relief he saw his target. He had finally brought himself level with the ledge of one of the viewing platforms. The noise of the crowd was almost overpowering, blocking out all else and rendering him completely ignorant to his opponent's whereabouts. He knew that that lightning blade would find him soon if he didn't get out.

A rope dangled nearby and Obi-Wan seized it with both hands. Only a couple of meters and he could escape.

He kicked off and let go of the rope with one bleeding hand, reaching for the ledge and his freedom.

His body slammed into the invisible force field at full speed. The shock of it stunned him and he barely he hung on as he crashed back into the climbing scaffold hard enough to jar bone. His vibroshiv flew from his grasp and disappeared.

Then he was falling. Falling away into the darkness until his right leg tangled with a protruding rung and stopped him. The brutal wrench drew a scream from his lips.

Barely conscious he dangled there helpless from one knee.

Pain overwhelmed his senses, but it was in his heart that he was now ultimately defeated.

What had he been thinking, the thought came to him distantly. He had been stupid to think that Sonu would allow him to escape so easily. Such a desperate fool. Had he succeeded he would only have been torn apart by the crowd before he'd gone two paces anyway.

There was no escape.

No escape.

The crowd leered down at him through his fading mind, jeering and calling and he felt their cries sink into him past the last of his stubborn defences.

Why was he trying so hard to survive? He was existing now to solely to satisfy the bloodlust of this rabble. To line the pocket of a thug.

His identity as a Jedi had been stripped from him. And so he was nothing.

Reach the next round. For what?!

_Make me the richest man the system, Jedi._

Obi-Wan's stomach roiled. He couldn't do it any longer.

The telltale swish of a rope found its way through his senses. His death was swooping towards him. And he waited for it.

He smiled faintly. He would escape. And this was how he would do it. He had done Sonu's biding. His captor couldn't argue if he fell in the pits and then the prisoners would be safe. And he would be free.

Reunited with the Force.

Could he still become one with it, blinded as he was from its warmth?

A quiver of fear shivered through his heart at the thought. But he couldn't do anything about it. He would escape this place either way and deprive this hive of scum and villainy of its twisted pleasure. He could still control one thing and that was his own death. Sonu hadn't thought of that.

At his core Obi-Wan centred himself. His life and events passed before his eyes for his reflection and he let it.

His friends.

Qui-Gon.

_Ni! Ben! Ben!_

Kyan.

The memory jolted Obi-Wan like a bolt of electricity. Still clutched in a haze of fog he pulled himself up. He cried out again as the blade scythed across his upper arm. Pain flooded him as he dragged himself away hardly knowing what drove him.

He had been fully prepared to die and now here he was moving again.

What had done that?

Kyan. You promised him you would come back. That you would return.

The boy. He had a responsibility to the boy. The pain in his arm cleaved through the cloying haze in his mind and gave him the strength to pull himself up a few more meters.

Kyan.

A wooden platform, closed on two sides, materialised just above him and he hauled himself onto it, gasping for breath as he concealed himself as best he could. What had he been doing back there? He did his best to gather his scattered thoughts. Yes there was escape that way. But could he forgive himself for giving in. For letting the boy down. For letting his _Master_ down. They both needed him still.

Shakily Obi-Wan raised himself onto his elbows. Yes dying might be the only way out. But he realised now that he couldn't do it without knowing that he had fought with all his might to survive for those he loved. He would never have peace otherwise.

He had to get up and get himself together.

With a huge effort Obi-Wan pushed himself to his knees. Staring out into the dark from his little island he let his heart settle. He had a job to do.

He had to get to the top of this scaffold with his hide.  
But what then. He had lost his vibroshiv. He had nothing now with which to touch the waiting sensor.

His weapon was lost a hundred meters below to the energy field. He would not be getting it back. Which left only one other option.

He almost laughed at the impossibility of it.

But he couldn't go up there without.

Watching and listening he sat there. There was no sound apart from the impatient shuffle of the crowd above. No movement. But even without the Force he knew his mysterious opponent was out there, waiting.

He just had no idea where.

The Force. Obi-Wan shivered slightly. He felt so helpless without it. And that helplessness was threatening to consume him.

He couldn't let it.

So he asked himself, was the Force all he was?

Was that his crutch? A comfort blanket that he clung to like a frightened child? His Master would disapprove of such a notion.

He was still living. He had his other senses. His eyes, his ears. His honed reflexes. He was still equal to his opponent in all ways.

Except in his head, he realised. He had grown so used to having the advantage over his enemies that now he felt crippled without it.

His adversary was under no such hindrance.

That had to change. He had to accept no matter how much his soul railed against the idea or he would not be getting out of here.

Breathing slowly and silently, Obi-Wan stared out. _Where are you, hunter of the night?_ he thought. _Hunting me._

He pulled in a lungful of frigid air. It was no good. He had to turn things around. He had learned from bitter experience that the only way to stop being the hunted was to become the hunter.

He needed a weapon and he needed to survive.

Impossible as it seemed he had to find his enemy. It was something he should have done from the start. He should have focused on the threat before focusing on the goal.

His enemy had been wiser than he there, too.

Another thing that was about to change.

Obi-Wan mulled over how best to achieve this near impossible task. He had no idea what he was up against. There had only been the wraithlike blade flashing out of the darkness to mark its victim at its leisure.

His enemy certainly had no trouble finding him when he wished.

An alien with superior night vision or a hound like sense of smell.

Either way it mattered not. The reality was that his opponent could see and he couldn't. He could chase the creature round this scaffold for weeks and not catch him. So where did that leave him?

A grim smile found its way onto Obi-Wan's face. He knew his Master's answer to this dilemma.

_In such situations, my Padawan, it becomes necessary to let your adversary find you._

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he remembered Qui-Gon's soft tones.

_Master._

Tears prickled behind his eyes but now his path was clear. A trap was needed.

And he would be the piece of meat baiting it once more.

Only this time it would be his idea.

Obi-Wan thought about it for a moment. His weapon had been lost, he had nothing to win with and nothing with which to fight his enemy. But there were alternatives to fighting. He let his eyes rove until they came to rest upon a nearby rope.

His enemy's favoured form of attack. Each time he had attacked he had done so by swinging in.

The ropes. Inspiration hit and Obi-Wan had his plan.

It was risky but it was the only one he had.

Grabbing the rope before he thought better of it Obi-Wan began to lower himself down, careful to make just enough noise to make his presence known but not enough to make the hunter suspicious. His hands screamed as they were forced to grip the rough rope and his abused body cringed from trauma old and new, but Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and ignored it.

In seconds he had reached the nearest beam below his feet. He took his weight off the rope but did not let go of it. Holding it loosely in one hand, he stood upon the narrow beam of metal in perfect balance, seemingly unconcerned for the great drop and the energy field beckoning far below him.

He had trained like this a hundred times and he relaxed into it. His centre was returned.

Then he heard it. A rope whistling as it cut the air. His enemy was coming for him.

Just as he'd planned.

Obi-Wan concentrated, focusing hard on the direction of the sound. A little to his right and behind him. And that was all he could think before the attack was sprung.

But this time Obi-Wan was waiting. He wheeled aside, dancing nimbly down the beam as if it were the ground itself. Even so he still felt the breath of the blade across his neck as his enemy swung by. And it reminded him that the outcome of this confrontation was still far from decided. His enemy was swift and could easily defeat him.

There was a muffled murmur of surprise in the dark as the seemingly wounded and weakening prey eluded the kill.

Without thought Obi-Wan sprang into action. He gripped his own rope and leapt into oblivion. He swung round in a circle dissecting the path of his enemy's rope with his own, looping it around until he landed back on the beam near a vertical strut. Bracing himself he hauled on the line. A howl of frustration was his reward as the other rope and its passenger were snapped back. The speed of it caused the enemy rope to coil rapidly round the strut. Round and round it whipped until there came a sudden thud a few levels below.

_Got you._ But it wouldn't be for long. Drawing a composing breath, Obi-Wan leaped down aiming for the beam where he believed his enemy had crash landed. All he had to do now was defeat him and gain his weapon.

_All in a day's work_. He hoped he knew what he was doing.

He missed his target by one. The rope coiled on down another level. Cautious now, Obi-Wan descended hand over fist down his own rope until he stood upon the scaffold.

Here the other line ended. But his adversary was not there. He'd already disappeared.

_No, he hasn't!_

Obi-Wan twirled, bringing his rope up in nothing more than blind instinct, blocking the blade that sought to impale him. He twisted the length as he did so. The rope severed but he successfully turned the vibroshiv.

There was a growl and Obi-Wan looked up to find himself face to face with his enemy for the first time. The nightmare of the night. He was small and covered head to foot in a short coat of sooty hair that blended seamlessly with the shadows. Fierce black eyes glittered from a feline face as thin lips drew back from rows of needle sharp teeth.

Obi-Wan started. A Sakurar. He had only ever heard of this race. Legends and stories of their hunting prowess in the dark jungles of their homeworld had found him in the creche when he was a youngling. He was indeed lucky to be alive. The Force, wherever it was, was somehow still with him.

Long whipcord arms flashed out, the vibroshiv flickering in a long fingered hand.

Obi-Wan countered without thought, whipping his severed rope and snapping it across his enemy's extended arm. The Sakurar bristled as it leapt back, spitting in surprised pain and fury.

With a motion like water the catlike alien switched his weapon from one hand to the other, relentlessly moving after the Jedi almost without pause.

Obi-Wan moved with him, weaving and dodging, just keeping enough distance between him and his adversary to keep his rope in play, slashing and parrying with it. The tip was in a constant hypnotic dance.

Then his foot slipped.

Obi-Wan's heart plunged in his chest as he stumbled and teetered for two eternal seconds before he was able to right himself.

But those two seconds were all that was needed for his enemy to make a move. The vibroshiv slashed across Obi-Wan's right cheek and scored across his jaw even as he desperately turned his head aside to avoid losing an eye.

Pain blinded Obi-Wan. He allowed himself to drop a level to get away from the blow that would be coming if he stood still.

Trying to stem the bleeding with his hand, he dropped into a crouch. His tunic collar was soon soaked in blood. That had been to close. He had to find a way to end this before he was killed.

The Sakurar dropped after him, coming down behind Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan readied himself, waiting until he felt the lunge, then twisted in a motion nearly too fast to witness. He brought the rope round and down. It hit true and to Obi-Wan's relief it twisted, becoming hopelessly tangled around his enemy's wrist.

The creature hissed, baring all his teeth, and pulled, trying to break away, but the rope only tightened further and Obi-Wan had the advantage of strength. Wasting no time he dragged his adversary to the nearest vertical support beam and bound the rope quickly, winding it again and again until the Sakurar was held fast.

All this had happened in seconds. Obi-Wan blinked as he absorbed what had just happened. He had the Sakurar was trapped and most importantly of all-- unharmed. His knees were weak with relief.

Furious, the alien struggled, continuing to swipe at Obi-Wan. He slashed at the rope that bound him.

Obi-Wan was slapped back to reality. "No!" he wound the rope in another loop. His words went unheeded and the shiv came close to marking him again.

A swift chop relived the Sakurar of his weapon. Claws shredded instead.

Obi-Wan raised his hand. "Stop! Be still. Don't you see this way nobody has to get hurt? Don't fight it."

The alien stilled but continued to glare at Obi-Wan with hate in his eyes.

"Please, stay here," he beseeched. "I don't want to hurt you."

He had to go. The only way to end this was to reach the top. Obi-Wan quickly tucked the captured vibroshiv into his belt. He had what he needed. With one last glance at his trapped adversary he began to climb once more. Quickly. He did not like what he saw in his enemy's eyes.

No matter what he said, the alien would find a way free himself and when that happened the one that had trapped him would be in serious trouble.

Obi-Wan doubled his pace. Hand over fist. Meter after meter until his enemy was lost once more to shadows far below.

Up he climbed, on into the darkness. The crowd around him bayed and called out, accusing cowardice but he ignored them.

Up.

The minutes slipped by. Longer and longer.

The ladder became all that he knew. His limbs trembled from the exertion and his raw hands were now bleeding freely. Twice he had to stop, gasping and trying to relieve the acidic burn of muscles that battled the gravity that sought to finish him. With every step the weight seemed to get greater.

Up.

It never seemed to end.

Grey spots had begun to swirl behind Obi-Wan's eyes before he finally looked up and at last saw his goal. In the nearing ceiling above he could just make out two red pinpoints of light. Sensors that he could drive his blade into and end this torture.

Just ten meters. Just ten more meters.

The howl that came shattered the air. The sound turned Obi-Wan's heart to ice.

_No!_

It had happened. The Sakurar was free. Already he could feel the vibrations of pursuit.

Obi-Wan grabbed the next rung, dragging himself along the next few meters with all the grit and determination that he possessed. Hadn't known he possessed until this moment. There was no Force to call on to aid his failing muscles. Just him and his will to get out.

He had to get out before that Sakurar caught him.

The ceiling was now just inches from his face. The red sensors glowed invitingly from narrow holes deep within the rock.

With a trembling hand, Obi-Wan pulled out the vibroshiv and drove the blade hard into the rock. The tip brushed the waiting sensor.

The crowd roared as a siren blew. A shrill bugle to signalling the end.

The sound deafened Obi-Wan as he clung there, barely holding on.

The end. It was over.

So exhausted was he that he didn't see the shadow fly up from the depths.

The Sakurar launched itself upon Obi-Wan's back, teeth and claws slashing as it tried to get a hold of the Jedi's throat.

With a shout Obi-Wan drove his head back into his enemy's face, striking him and loosening its hold. The Sakurar howled, claws digging in as it tried to re-establish its grip.

Obi-Wan twisted in blind desperation, he struck out, catching the alien in the jaw with his fist.

The Sakurar fell back spitting, leaping clear to cling to the bars two meters away. Murder strobed through the black eyes as the wiry body coiled.

Obi-Wan watched it all through his haze of pain and knew. He knew. His heart screamed. "No, please," he begged. "Don't do this!"

But the Sakurar was beyond reason. It leapt, slicing through the dark towards the despairing Padawan.

Obi-Wan watched him come as if in slow motion. His thoughts flew. Him or his enemy. His enemy or him. His foot came up but he did not feel it move.

He came apart on the inside as it connected, knocking his adversary out into thin air and into oblivion. A real cry tore from his lips, overlaying that of his adversary as the dark body tumbled, falling helplessly away into blackness.

A forever minute of silence passed before there came a blinding flare from the energy field far below.

But Obi-Wan did not see it. His face was already buried in his arm, stifling the despairing sobs that wanted to break free. What had he done? Why hadn't the Sakurar stayed? Why--?! He'd killed him. He'd--

He did not notice when a catwalk extended from a hitherto hidden door in the near wall. Rough arms reached out and pulled him from the scaffold, dragging him onto the catwalk as it began to retract back into the wall towards waiting door.

The touch of the arms roused Obi-Wan and he fought with all his remaining strength to free himself from the Cobra's grasp.

Fury burned though his despair as he saw Sonu waiting for him in the small antechamber, a delighted smile upon his face.

It was all that Obi-Wan could do to keep from flying at him. To wipe that expression from his face and send him out of the door, into the air to follow after the fallen Sakurar.

He did not listen to Sonu's words. He did not hear anything as the medics came forward to bandage his wounds. All he could see was his enemy as he tumbled away to what most surely would have been his death.

His enemy who had been as much a victim as he. Who had died for nothing. Through him.

Obi-Wan began to shake. And he could not stop it. What had he done? His emotions raged but had nowhere to go.

A shove and he was following Cobra back down through the draughty corridors, Wookies on either side. He stared at the back of the bounty hunters head, eyes burning. He would like nothing more than to have the Force back right now so he could choke the living daylights out of that hated man.

The doors to the great prison materialised out of the gloom before them without Obi-Wan even having recalled how they'd got there.

All of a sudden he was through and the Cobra was gone behind the doors, leaving him suddenly with no focus for his anger.

On wooden legs Obi-Wan started forward, moving back to his bunk, sightlessly stepping over those lying on the ground, heedless to anything.

Until a cry split through his senses and drew him to an abrupt halt. A cry of a child in distress.

Obi-Wan was already turning towards the sound. He espied a man at the near wall, Kyan was there, cowering at his feet. The man shouted and raised a fist.

Obi-Wan's vision finally went red and he swept across the floor. In a heartbeat he had the man's arm in his hand, twisting and pinning him against the wall in a vicelike grip.

Fury roared in his ears.

"Touch him again and I'll kill you!" he snarled in a voice that he barely recognised as his own.

This sorry little man suddenly became the target for all his anger, his despair, his regret. All he could see in that moment were the faces of Sonu and the Cobra. The men who had done this. The men who were still doing this. Who had brought him here, who had fixed him with this suffocating collar. Blocked him from the serenity of the Force and his Master. Made him fight.

Made him kill.

The fury mounted. For the second time in as many hours he was tumbling into darkness. Into a pit far blacker and ever more inescapable than the one he had just fought his way out of.

"Ben?"

It was the little voice that saved him. It cleaved through the raging mire of his mind like a thin sword of light.

Kyan?

With a gasp Obi-Wan came back to his senses. The red haze receded and his vision cleared. For the first time he truly saw the man he held pinned before him. A short, quivering man. Not Sonu. Not Cobra.

Another victim.

Fear stood in the brown eyes as the man stared at him and it stabbed through Obi-Wan's heart.

Sucking in a ragged breath he let the stunned man drop to the floor and hastily stepped back. He was trembling violently. The anger drained away leaving him sick.

His hands dropped to his sides. Looking down at the cowering man he could only murmur hoarsely. "I'm sorry." His eyes closed, blocking the man's fear from his sight. "I'm so sorry. Just… please leave us alone."

With that he turned, unable to stand there anymore, and scooped Kyan up into his arms. He barely had the strength left to carry the child.

Unseeing he stumbled back to their cot. Physically and emotionally numb, he collapsed down, finally unable to go any further. Curling into a ball he drew Kyan against his chest, needing the child's presence to ground him. Twice already the boy had pulled him back from the brink. From death. From the dark. Maybe now he would save him from falling apart

The golden eyes peered at him questioningly then the little hand came up, tracing the long gash down Obi-Wan's face.

"Ben," he said softly.

That did it. The trembling became too much and Obi-Wan came apart. He tightened his grip around Kyan and buried his face in the boy's small shoulder, pouring out his grief in long shuddering sobs to purge his wounded soul.

It was a long time before Obi-Wan managed to control the storm and draw back. "Kyan," he murmured. His sorrowing eyes searching for the child's wellbeing. He needed to know that the boy was still alright. It was all he was surviving on.

The child looked at him wearily, confused, but well. He was well. "Ben?"

Obi-Wan dragged up a weak smile. "Obi--" He shook his head. "Oh, never mind."

He stroked the boy's soft head as the tears continued to spill down his cheeks. "Never mind."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Obi-Wan ducked the cutting blow to his head. The steel blade of his opponents broad sword passed so close he could hear his song upon the air. A few centimetres closer and it would have sliced off the top of his skull. A worrying thought to many but Obi-Wan, with the ease of a trained warrior, he shrugged the fact away like an annoying insect. He countered firmly instead. Using the position his current enemy had forced him into, he spun in a low crouch and slammed the flat of his sword into the other man's unprepared leg. A part of his mind whispered he should have taken his advantage. Should have ended it then. Survival demanded it. But he shook that thought away too, as well as the spike of pain it drew. It would incapacitate him. He wouldn't go down that road. Never again.

His enemy fell back with a howl of pain and frustration, though it was soon drowned out by the baying of the crowd. Obi-Wan paid the despised sound no mind. After two solid months of numerous fights and challenges, he no longer even heard the crowd.

The man he fought now swung in to cut at him again, but Obi-Wan easily parried the clumsy blow and turned it aside. Both men had managed to mark the other. Each sported cuts and bruises as a testament to their struggle. But now the other man was getting tired… and careless. After three hours of battle he had probably never fought anybody this long. Obi-Wan twirled his blade in his hand feeling a strange rush of exhilaration as he did so. The sword might be a heavier, clumsier weapon, but it was the closest thing he'd had to holding a lightsaber in what felt like a lifetime. Maybe it had been a lifetime. Cut off from the Force and ground down day after day, surrounded by nothing but suffering, it was hard for Obi-Wan to imagine his old life. In such times he clung to the memory of his Master like a lifeline. One of two things that kept him going.

He gripped the hilt of his weapon. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed his lightsaber, yet another part of him that had been stripped away. He took the sword to himself now, dancing with it like it was an extension of himself. Fluid and graceful as water. He felt alive for the first time in months. His opponent could not match him. After three hours the other man was near collapse. Obi-Wan was barely breathing hard.

The glazed eyes of his opponent lifted to find his across the short distance between them. Obi-Wan saw the muscles bunch in thick shoulders as the man gathered his remaining strength for a final assault. And it would be his last. They both knew it. Obi-Wan gave him a brief nod of acknowledgement, which was returned. Unlike so many of the others he had faced, this man fought with honour. He was bound by the code of the sword. He was not another mindless cut throat. They had gained one another's respect and the man knew he had been outclassed. Still he would not go willingly. He would go down fighting.

Obi-Wan understood. He brought his blade up in a salute to a battle well fought and waited patiently for the surge to come. With a yell the other swordsman charged, levelling his sword

at Obi-Wan's heart. Obi-Wan planted his feet and readied his weapon. Just as the tip of his enemy's blade was about to pierce his heart, he swung, parrying and carrying his opponent's blade up and round, putting the committed man off balance. Quick as a cat Obi-Wan reversed the direction of his swing and brought the pommel of his sword down on his enemy's head as his momentum carried him past. The blow was swift and precise. The swordsman dropped to the dirt floor unconscious.

The familiar scream and baying for blood exploded around the room. Still ignorant to it, Obi-Wan crouched next to his fallen opponent and probed his skull with careful fingers. He held his breath for an eternal second before his search yielded no broken bones. Relief washed through him. The man would wake with a lump and a mighty headache but would suffer no long term effects. Obi-Wan straightened tiredly, suddenly aware of all his own stinging cuts and abrasions. Weariness flooded his limbs as the rush of battle fuelled adrenaline left him and sword dropped from his fingers. The sound of the arena's main stone doors grinding open brought him round in time to be met by the Cobra and his henchmen.

The bounty hunter flicked a long hand coldly and Obi-Wan followed with practiced obedience. To do otherwise only brought trouble that he didn't need. But it didn't stop him hating himself for having to bow to these people. For being so powerless. He felt the stare of the crowd as it followed him out and it crawled over his skin like a thousand insects. Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder. How much longer would he have to go on like this? How much more of it could he take? He seriously hoped that that was a question that would never have to be answered. _Please find me soon, Master, _he spoke the familiar prayer in his silent mind.

Without a word he moved into the torch lit antechamber and turned to where he knew Sonu would be waiting, settling into the adopted look that was a mix of quiet defiance and weary resignation.

And there he stood. Delighted grin and all. The credits he was earning just seemed to pour from behind his eyes. Obi-Wan fought the urge to pull away in revulsion as Sonu clapped him on the shoulder in mockery of companionship. The man's touch made his skin crawl.

"Well done, Obi-Wan," his captor praised, "as usual you pull in a record crowd and never fail to deliver! I truly now am the richest man in the sector. No one has made it this far in the Kralti Games with their skin in over twenty years, and I feel as if you just walked that last." The stocky man paused his gushing and gave Obi-Wan a keen appraising look. The cogs were suddenly turning in that mind and Obi-Wan did not like it one bit. He nevertheless lifted his chin and met that blunt gaze with calm assurance.

Sonu chuckled. "Hmmm," he then turned to the tall bounty hunter waiting in the shadows. "Take Obi-Wan back to the rest and then report back to me immediately. We need to discuss something." He then waved a strong hand in dismissal.

Discuss what? Obi-Wan wanted to know. He could tell it was something to do with him. He knew it. His wariness cranked up a notch. The notion of what Sonu could be scheming now played on his mind as he was dragged out of the room. He barely registered the journey. What could Sonu have to throw at him that was any worse than what he had already faced? Had already been through? For he had been through a lot. Seen too much. All without time to think or reflect. Without his Master, without the Force. His hand drifted to his neck in a by now familiar action. He had almost forgotten what it was like to touch the Force. Yet his body craved its return and the strength and peace it could give, while his heart craved his Master, to calm him and make sense of what was happening. What more could he face?

At last he was pushed through the doors. Home. Obi-Wan shook his head. Once the very sight and overpowering smell of the place would have turned his stomach. But now after to months he didn't even flinch any more. That part of himself had hardened irrevocably. Another thing to torment his waking thoughts. But all worries were pushed to the back of his mind as a small ball of energy suddenly flew at him from out of the masses of bodies. Kyan wrapped his arms possessively around his neck and hung there. "Ben."

Obi-Wan brought his arms up around the child and smiled his own greeting, hiding his weariness. "Hello there, Kyan."

"Aww. Isn't that just precious," a voice drawled from behind them. Obi-Wan half turned. He had almost forgotten that the Cobra was still there. Obi-Wan glowered at him over Kyan's arm. "Haven't you got to run back to Sonu now?" he ground out. But regretted it a moment later as the bounty hunter confirmed his latest fears.

"Yes I have," the Cobra said with a chilling smile. "But you shouldn't be so eager for me to get there. We'll only be discussing the manner of your demise."

Obi-Wan stiffened perceptibly and the bounty hunter laughed as he turned away and locked to the doors behind him. His last words remained heavy on the air, however, and Obi-Wan stood held by them for a moment longer. So he had been right. Sonu was cooking something up for him. Something the Cobra was obviously confident would be the death of him. His forehead creased as he started to pick his way back over to the bunk, tightening his arms around Kyan as he went.

"Where you been, Ben?" the boy's soft voice broke through his increasingly troubled thoughts. Obi-Wan was still sometimes taken aback to hear Basic words coming from the boy. He had learned fast.

"Nowhere important," he replied wearily.

"Never 'portant," Kyan groused over the oft used answer.

"Well it isn't," Obi-Wan countered firmly. "And don't stick your lip out like that or you'll stick like it one day."

"Won't," said Kyan stubbornly, jutting his bottom lip out even more.

"Oh yes you will!" Obi-Wan looked at him, the barest smile starting to creep onto his face. "Just as soon as the wind changes."

"No believe you."

"You don't, do you?" Obi-Wan's smile turned into a mischievous grin--the only warning Kyan got before he was upended on the bunk and Obi-Wan was seeking out his ticklish underarms. Kyan squealed with laughter and squirmed away. He rolled off the bunk and grabbed one of the wooden bowls from beneath the narrow cot.

"Got bowl!" he said triumphantly and raced away, beginning a familiar game. Obi-Wan laughed and pushed his cares into a place he could not yet feel them before starting after.

*

"It is time now," Sonu said as the Cobra watched him roll up from the plush couch. The bounty hunter had seen as soon as he entered his current employer's quarters, that Sonu had wasted no time in enjoying his new found wealth. The large rooms were now decked out with the finest furnishings that credits could buy. Thick carpet cushioned his feet and priceless ornaments graced the mantles. The Cobra had taken all of it in at a glance, noting everything, and remained unmoved by it. Wealth came and went, to covet it was foolish and made one weak.

"Time for what?" he asked.

Sonu seemed to ignore his question, turning to a decanter on a nearby table. Deep red liquid glinted inside the crystal glass. "Would you care for some wine?"

"No." The Cobra straightened his back, standing like a piece of iron in the soft surroundings. He despised all of this false pleasantry. He wanted to get to the point and then he could go about his business. Sonu seemed to get the message. Annoying as he was, he hadn't climbed to where he was by being stupid. The wine decanter was forgotten and Sonu finally got down to business.

"Our young, Jedi, all of these pitiful games have gone on for too long now. It is time for a change."

The Cobra frowned. "Change? What kind of 'change'?"

Sonu just looked at him. The Cobra was very adept at reading a whole variety of beings and he read that look in a heartbeat. He permitted himself a ripple of shock. He had to admit he had not seen this coming. Not yet anyway. "Are you sure you want to do that?" Kenobi's death did not phase him in the least, but he would have preferred that the young filth to have suffered some more first. Cobra's missing finger's ached with the ghost of old pain and he rubbed his hand absently. Oh yes, much more. "Do you want to lose your star attraction so early on? As I see it he's still as popular as ever."

Sonu shook his head in the manner of scolding a short-sighted child and Cobra bit down on hard anger as the condescension trickled into his voice. "No, my dear bounty hunter. That is why this job is better left to me. I can read our audience. Yes for now they are still interested, but not for much longer. The novelty of seeing the Jedi will begin to wane. He has passed the last few rounds with ease. No. I plan to make a change before we start to lose the audience. I'm going to do this. Make sure you have everything prepared for…" The stocky man made a cutting motion with his fingers.

Cobra stared. His anger shot up another notch. "I've told you before! I did not put myself at risk just for you to throw it all away on a whim!"

"Watch your tongue, Cobra, or I shall remove it myself." He didn't shout or even snap but the icy intent behind the words were unmistakeable. All pretence of pleasantry was gone. Now he faced the cold hard criminal beneath. A man even he did not want to trifle with unless the time was right. And it wasn't. Not here inside the monster's own lair. Cobra dropped his eyes smoothly. He knew how to play the game. "A apologise."

"Good, now," the glossy demeanour slipped back into place, "I need to start putting the word around. Everything needs to be prepared by tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Don't you want to play it out a bit longer?"

"No. Thirty hours is long enough in this game. Bring the Jedi to the central pit, nine hundred hours, sharp."

"As you wish," the Cobra bowed.

Sonu nodded, satisfied. Cobra turned and walked from the room, a smile playing across his own face. He was going to enjoy this.

*

Obi-Wan woke to a jab in the ribs. Already knowing well who was on the other end of such a summons, he turned over slowly to meet the Cobra's dark gaze.

"What do you want?" he grunted.

"Why?"

"You've got a banquet to attend."

Obi-Wan stared at him.

"Well, what do you think, you fool! Sonu wants you down in the pits. Now!"

That shook the last vestiges of sleep from Obi-Wan's brain with a snap. Bewildered he sat up, though carefully to avoid disturbing the small bundle sleeping close by. He had just fought yesterday. He should have at least a week before he was called upon again. Sonu was always careful to make sure his prize was fully rested between bouts.

Cobra seemed to read his confusion. "No soft holiday this time. You're wanted. Now get up."

Glaring and wanting nothing more than to knock the bounty hunter flat on his back, Obi-Wan rose to his feet. He turned to shake Kyan awake, to let the boy know where he was going, but the pole of an electro jabber blocked his arm before he could touch the boy. An electro jabber? They were heavily armed today. His weariness peaked.

"No time for soppy farewells today, Jedi. It's probably best you let the boy sleep. He'll have precious little rest after today. I don't think his Jedi protector will be coming back this time."

Obi-Wan stiffened. "Don't be so sure, bounty hunter," he ground out, despite the ripple of bad feeling that rippled through him.

"Rarely of anything, Jedi." The Cobra answered. "But in this I am. Your death awaits you down in the pits today and I'm going enjoy watching."

Obi-Wan fought down his rising apprehension. He sounded so damn sure. But he did not let the bounty hunter know he was being rattled. He lifted his chin in defiance. "We shall see."

The hunter gave a humourless smile. "Indeed we will." The electro jabber lifted. "Now let's move along while we're still young."

Reluctantly Obi-Wan turned away from Kyan, leaving the child sleeping peacefully. [i]I'll be back soon[/i], he sent the thought as hard as he could. It wouldn't do any good, but he couldn't help himself. The boy would panic when he found him gone, but he couldn't help that. He could only try to return as quickly as he could.

Silently he followed his bounty hunter escort from the room. Walking along the draughty corridors for the second time in s many days, Obi-Wan tried not to guess what Fate had in store for him this time. Cobra seemed especially pleased today. If Obi-Wan didn't know any better, he'd say there was a bounce in his step. What had he discussed with Cobra last night? Nothing good. Not for him. Obi-Wan moaned low in his heart. What could they possibly want from him now? What was all this endless struggle leading towards? He had a feeling he was moving one step closer to it today. He shrank from the idea. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think. That wasn't very Jedi-like, but that was how his life had become. A constant dread of the future. And as the cold journey continued he knew he would be facing that future all too soon.

He was right. Lifting his eyes from where he had left them on the floor, Obi-Wan watched as the Cobra drew the small party to a halt outside a strange set of doors. Over the months Obi-Wan had come to recognise many of the doors to the many pits he had fought in. This learning he had been able to glean some insight into what sort of challenge he would be facing beyond the threshold. But these doors… Obi-Wan wracked his bleak memory. These doors he could safely say had never come before him. It did nothing to ease his fears. He had no idea what was waiting for him.

The doors ground open and he reassessed his thinking. There was always one constant in all of this. Sonu could always be counted upon. The familiar blocky form stood in the centre of the antechamber leading to the strange pit. Obi-Wan stepped forward and was hit instantly on the face by a wall of heat. The stone room was stifling. Hot enough to choke. Sonu turned as he entered. Sweat was pouring down the thick face but Sonu showed no other sign of the discomfort that he must have been in. his eyes glittered eagerly in the torchlight.. Obi-Wan got the impression that if he were anyone else he would be bouncing on his feet. Something was going to happen now. Something big. Obi-Wan's stomach coiled tighter in his stomach. And there was something else that made all this unsettling. It took him a moment to realise that there was no noise coming from beyond the antechamber. He could not hear a crowd and the silence was somehow more oppressive than ever the roar had been. Panic flurried threw him. Nothing was right. Was he going to die now. Had Sonu finally had enough of his latest plaything and was going to kill him once and for all/ a million questions went flying through Obi-Wan's head in a single, terrible moment.

Sonu chuckled. "You look worried, Obi-Wan. And you are right to be. Jedi or not, this chamber has been the end of the line for all those that have come here before you."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and clenched his fists. So it was to be then. He had come to the end of the line. He had served whatever purpose Sonu had wanted and now only death was left for him. In his heart he tried to prepare himself, but peace was like a greasy rock face that he could not grasp and his stomach plunged every time he slipped. He actually flinched when he heard the sound of a vibroshiv being drawn slowly from its sheath. The bearer was enjoying the motion and his panic. He fought to get a better control on himself. He was a Jedi and he should be prepared to meet his fate and become one with the Force. But the Force's serene blanket had abandoned him, leaving him cold and exposed and very frightened. Someone stepped up beside him and Obi-Wan stopped breathing as a hand settled in his hair and slowly drew back his head exposing his vulnerable throat. Next he heard the Cobra's voice whispering in his ear. "I've been looking forward to this, Jedi scum. Die well."

Obi-Wan's heart was pounding painfully in his chest fighting to live even as the rest of him waited for his life to be ended. His breath came in short gasps. Sonu's voice penetrated the background. "Keep still and you won't feel a thing." The words were no comfort as he felt the Cobra's blade press against his neck. A last image of his Master danced before his lids and he wished with all his heart that Qui-Gon was here with him now. Then the blade was moving, cutting up and across in a swift practiced motion and then it was gone.

Obi-Wan collapsed to the floor.

For a timeless moment he was senseless. He was surprised that there was no pain. Just an overwhelming sense of weightlessness. It was like a great stone had been lifted from his shoulders leaving him floating on a sea of sensation, all colours and motion. He felt as if he could touch anything and feel its life and its meaning to be there. At the same time it felt as if he was being slowly wrapped in a secure and comforting blanket. A child coming home to its mother. If this was dying then this wasn't so bad, he thought dreamily.

But rather than getting further away from everything as he cast off his mortal bonds, Obi-Wan sensed that as the initial euphoria ebbed that the world around him was coming back into sharper focus. Heat against his skin. The sharp tang of sweat in his nostrils. He became aware that he was being carried.

"Didn't know that it would effect him like this…"

"You take too much risk, Sonu! He could do anything now! He could contact--"

"Silence! Just get him in there before he comes round. Then he'll have far too much to concentrate on!"

Concentrate? That was the last thing he wanted to do. He was going to the Force. It had come for him at last. But try as he might he felt as if the Force was moving further away and returning him to the world.

No! He pleaded. I don't want to go back there! Then all of a sudden he was falling, his senses jolting back as he landed hard.

Obi-Wan blinked. The world swirled before his eyes and he blinked again. Everything seemed strangely over bright and it hurt his brain but finally his vision cleared enough for him to see that he was lying flat on a dirt floor. Columns of flame shot up and licked around him in random bursts. The burning fire was hot against his skin. Had he fallen into hell then as punishment for his recent sins? Next there came a low rumbling like thunder that was painful to his suddenly sensitive ears. Blearily he turned to see two huge stone doors being hurriedly drawn in the walls about six feet above him. Sonu's gloating face was the last thing to disappear before they closed completely.

Sonu? But how could that be. He was dead. The knife… Obi-Wan's hand went to his throat. His hand came away with a trickle of blood, but that was all. No gushing flow. No gaping wound. He was alive and… his hand moved. The collar was gone! He passed his hand around his whole neck again and again in disbelief, but the answer remained the same. The collar that had choked him since before his arrival in this accursed place, was gone. Obi-Wan could hardly take it in. The relief was overwhelming. He felt as if he could suddenly breath, like his breath had been held for a lifetime. Oxygen filled his starved lungs, cleansing and steadying. His vision focused, highly defined and focused, colours vibrant. He felt alive!

His sixth sense expanded and reached out, moving beyond his standard five. He was now aware of the massive crowd sitting high above the walls and immediately recoiled as their blood lust and loathing beat down upon him. The hate almost was almost overwhelming and he struggled to get his unprepared shields back into place, protecting himself from all but the most basic surface thoughts. But the effect was still similar to one being long in the dark having a flash light shone into their eyes.

He stared up at the crowd as they sat there strangely silent and still. Waiting.

Waiting for what? The question brought Obi-Wan back down to earth with a bump. That was the question. Waiting for what? They had taken that collar off for a reason. And it had to be a good one. Gathering his spiralling wits, Obi-Wan brought his attention back to his immediate surroundings.

A flame shot out of the ground close by, making him jump. He hadn't imagined that then. Burning geysers were shooting up from the hard packed floor all around this massive chamber. He could sense the workings of a massive piping system beneath the ground. Gas that ignited in the selected areas and went burning into the air upon its directed path. That was a big risk to Obi-Wan's mind and he filed the information away.

Despite the small conflagrations, the extensive pit was dimly lit, but that was no problem to Obi-Wan now. He saw and noted everything. This pit was almost as big as the prison he lived in. Unbelievable in scale. Walls rose up three hundred meters away to his left and before him with the crowd tucked away above. He could not see where the room ended to his right nor see where the roof closed above his head. What he could see were strange objects littering the floor. Big transparisteel boxes as tall as he was, a section of massive piping dropped here and there. Chains hung down from the unseen roof, a few suspending yet more containers high in the air along with a handful of swaying platforms. The effect was rather like an abandoned archaic factory.

Obi-Wan flinched again as flames shot out of the ground next to him, closer now. He shifted to the side, still unnerved by the bated silence of the crowd. They were waiting for something and he still had no idea what or what he was supposed to be doing. There had been no pre-battle pep talk from Sonu this time. They had made sure he had been thrown in here before he realised what was happening and could act on it. With the Force he could have taken all of them and escaped. He could have reached out and--

The Cobra's words as he had heard them in his dreamlike state came back to him, '_he could contact…'_ He could reach out and contact another Jedi. Joy and disbelief flowed through him. Disbelief that he hadn't yet thought of that in the whirlwind of sensation he had been riding upon since getting the Force back and joy at knowing that he no longer had to be alone. The thought that he was so far from everything and there might be no one out there to hear him did not cross his mind. He trusted the Force in this instance like never before and it cast aside his doubt. He had been given this opportunity for a reason and he was going to use it. There had to be somebody out there to hear.

Gathering the Force to him he collected its power, feeling the small thrill as he did so, then he began to release it, sending it out, out beyond these walls of sadness and misery, out--

Suddenly the harsh screech of metal on metal shattered Obi-Wan's concentration, the Force fled from his grasp as he spun round. The noise had come from behind him, cutting through his ears and filling him with sudden dread. He had been so caught up as he was in his task that he had forgotten that his opponent was yet to appear. Since being returned to the Force his thoughts had just been jumping from one reality to the other. He had to get a hold of himself. Quickly.

Metal screeched again and Obi-Wan watched as a huge, gaping mouth was opened in the floor to his left. The stench of excrement and death belched upwards and Obi-Wan stepped back further as it turned his insides and clenched his heart. The Force surged around him as he was suddenly overcome by the greed and hunger of a massive life form heading his way, underground.

Obi-Wan riveted his eyes to the maw that had opened in the ground, half wanting to see the thing that was about to emerge, half wanting to turn and flee for his life. The smell of terror was getting more powerful and Obi-Wan knew he was about to have company very soon. It was all he could do to remain where he was and he reached out to the Force for strength just as the floor began to vibrate in rhythmic pulses beneath his feet. The audience must have felt it to because they began to murmur in eager anticipation. They knew as Obi-Wan did that they were feeling the ground shaking footsteps of the Jedi's next opponent.

"Oh, Force help me," Obi-Wan whispered as the vibrations got steadily stronger, sure and terrible. Like a womp rat caught in headlights Obi-Wan stood frozen with his eyes on the black pit, waiting for the monster that was about to breach.

But just as his breath was caught in his throat, the massive footfalls stopped and everything went deathly silent. Obi-Wan could here his own heart pounding in his chest. Still he watched the trap door, unable to turn his back. The Force screamed at him that the danger lay just beneath the floor and it would be his death if he didn't escape. But he couldn't escape. He was locked in here with no where to go.

Then came the movement. It was so small that it was almost anticlimactic. Just the barest flicker of something long and thin whipping up from the darkness. It disappeared for a second, only to whip back into view in the next. Again and again. For a full five minutes the flickering thing kept appearing and reappearing, increasing Obi-Wan's tension until he thought he would snap.

In the end he couldn't take it anymore. Cautiously he stepped forward, his boots making no sound upon the dirt floor, edging steadily forward until he was no more than a few feet from the massive trap door. The whip-like thing kept moving, sightlessly flickering before Obi-Wan's eyes. It was pinkish-black in colour, wetly shining in the dancing light of the flames, forked in shape. Obi-Wan barely had the time to identify the thing, before it suddenly disappeared altogether. Satisfaction radiated up from beneath.

_Force!!! _Obi-Wan stumbled backwards, realising what had happened a second too late. He was still at the pit side when a massive head exploded from the depths. It caught him hard and threw him backwards. Obi-Wan' breath was knocked from his body as he landed in a sprawling heap six meters away. Gasping, he lay still where he had fallen. Everything told him to stay where he was otherwise he was a dead man. Very slowly he turned onto his back, looking up into the grotesque face of the monster that had breached from the earth. Wicked eyes pierced the gloom, rotating this way and that above jaws that dominated most of the face. The pink-black tongue flickered out from between the razor teeth, searching for the taste of the one it had scented. Obi-Wan could barely breathe. He couldn't remember being more scared in his life.

Clawed feet scraped the floor as the beast began to drag itself out of its lair. Obi-Wan watched as it rose above him. Up and up until Obi-Wan didn't think it would stop. Finally the whole of it was standing above ground, ten meters tall and twenty long, a leviathan of muscle, horn and acid green scales supported on four thick legs. A long whip-like tail armed with barbs lashed the air as the thick head swivelled and the great forelegs came down upon either side of Obi-Wan's body.

A growl rumbled through the deep chest. Saliva dribbled down upon the unseen prey beneath it, burning where it touched. Those fangs were poisonous!

Obi-Wan suddenly decided he was not going to wait until he was spotted and devoured. He had to try and get out of here. The trap door was still open. Maybe he could find a way out through there. It was his only hope. Mind made up he cloaked himself with a touch of the Force and forced his frozen muscles to move. Inch by inch he crawled back along beneath the beast, creeping beneath its belly, trying desperately not to gag on its stench. Foot by pain staking foot he drew closer to his goal. He had never known a huge black hole look so inviting.

Finally he was beneath the tail. It lashed above him, barbs gleaming in the flames. Unexpectedly it lashed down, its owner getting frustrated with its elusive prey. Obi-Wan rolled aside just in time as the powerful appendage gouged the floor right where he had been lying. Shaken, Obi-Wan leaped up and made a last dash for his escape. He was almost there when the trapdoor snapped shut with a deafening clang.

_No!_

The beast swung round at the sudden noise and its eyes came to rest upon the Jedi stood despairing at the locked escape route. Quick as a striking snake it lunged, jaws agape. The Force surged and Obi-Wan leaped aside, dodged and ran for his life. He just ran without plan or thought. He just had to get as much distance between him and that… thing. One of the huge boxes caught his frantic sight and the Force pulsed. Despite his panic Obi-Wan took the hint, he dived for the container. There was an opening in the side and he threw himself into it just as mighty jaws snapped closed behind him.

Inside the metal walls of the sheltering box, Obi-Wan dragged air into his lungs. His body was trembling from the shock and for a moment he couldn't steady it. What the hell was that!! He knew now why Sonu had risked giving him the Force back. He'd have been dead already without it. And it remained to be seen how much longer. Sweat dripped off his face and he wiped it off with a trembling hand. What was he going to do?! He didn't even know what his goal was in all of this. Surely not to kill that thing?

_Oh Force_.

The despairing thought skittered through his mind just as he heard Sonu's voice crackle through the air, amplified by some device.

"Ladies and gentle beings! Behold the Fire Dragon! Demon of old! Look good for the likes of this confrontation will never be seen again. Knight and Dragon brought together out from the legends of old. Who will be the victor?!"

The crowd howled and roared in response. Favour siding with the beast and the wish to see the Knight torn limb from limb.

Sonu's laugh grated against Obi-Wan's ears. "We shall see! We shall see! See if the Knight can make it past the Dragon with his hide. There is only one way out of that pit and it lies on the far side. A thousand meters to travel. Who will be the victor!! Will the Jedi escape the hungry jaws of death or shall the Dragon gnaw on fresh bones tonight. All will be decided. Ladies and gentle beings I leave you to watch the spectacle of a life time! The Knight and the Fire Dragon!"

The roar was deafening, but even that was drowned out as a howl, near scream blasted out somewhere near Obi-Wan's hiding place. The Fire Dragon. Obi-Wan clapped his hand over his ears as the sound reverberated inside his box. The metal walls quivered. The noise from the crowd was enraging the monster and its hunger burned. Obi-Wan could feel it through the Force. It was starving. Angry and determined. It would hunt with chilling single-mindedness.

It was tasting the air, tracking Obi-Wan by the scent of his sweat. In no time at all a blunt snout was pushing up against the entrance to Obi-Wan's hiding place. The slick, probing tongue flickered in and Obi-Wan pressed himself away from it. Breath coming his short silent gasps. He knew it was no good. He could not hide his scent. The tongue retracted and there came a deep growl, signalling triumph on the beast's part. Obi-Wan held his breath and waited.

Bang! The box was hit with the force of a charging bantha. Teeth punctured through on either side of the metal walls like they were cardboard and began to crush slowly, lifting the box into the air with Obi-Wan inside. Then it dropped it, letting it smash to earth. Obi-Wan was jarred to the bones, bruised and battered. Dazedly he pushed himself to his feet. He looked up with dismay at the puncture holes around him. Big enough to fit two of his fingers inside. And was it him or were they growing larger? With a start he realised that the venom from the creature's fangs was beginning to burn the metal away. It bubbled and hissed and now Obi-Wan realised why the beast had come by its name. It didn't have to breath fire to burn.

He had to get out of here before this whole thing dissolved around him. Risking everything he peeked out of the box. The beast was nosing round the container looking to see if the tasty morsel had dropped out. For the briefest of instants it turned away and Obi-Wan seized the moment. He leaped out and fled. He had to make it to the other side and the promised exit.

The crowd roared at his reappearance and Obi-Wan felt rather than saw the Fire Dragon rear up in response. It abandoned the now empty box and swung around. The earth shook beneath Obi-Wan's feet as it gave chase. Obi-Wan raced ahead, dodging the obstacles in his way like a hunted hare. It was only a thousand meters. A thousand meters to life. If he could just out run the thing. He called upon the Force to enhance his speed. He was already almost half way.

But speed counted for nothing when his nemesis literally made up a quarter of the space. The sinuous tail lashed round. Focused on running like he was the Force warned Obi-Wan just a fraction too late and he was caught broadside. He was flung to the side like a rag doll then swung up on the back lash. Obi-Wan flew threw the air, helplessly tumbling back towards the gaping mouth of his hunter. The Dragon reared up prepared to catch him out of midair and bite him in two. Thinking fast even in freefall Obi-Wan reached out and grabbed one of the dangling chains with both hands. It yanked him to a halt and Obi-Wan felt his shoulder sockets pop under the strain. He screwed his eyes shut against the sudden shock to his already abused body. Quickly he let himself slide down to a wooden platform dangling beneath.

And came eye to eye with the dragon.

It snarled at him in fury, once more cheated out of its meal. It lunged forward, snapping at the platform. The wood splintered in its mouth as Obi-Wan jumped upward, using the Force to aid him as he climbed back up the chain hand and fist in an effort to get clear. Another ten meters up he paused to look and assess his situation. Baleful eyes stared up at him as the giant lizard planned its next move. As did he.

Tearing his eyes away from the beast Obi-Wan looked beyond it to where the promised exit lay. From up here he could just make it out. Six hundred meters away a man sized opening was cut into the rock wall. A light shone invitingly from inside a way out of the nightmare. He just had to get there.

Looking down again he assessed his chances. The beast's long body swept round in the direction that he wanted to go. Fine, he could use that. As long as he didn't end up in the mouth. But time to think was over as the dragon lost patience and reared up, poisoned teeth reaching and snapping. Obi-Wan gathered himself and swung out of the way. As the maw lunged past he let go of the chain and somersaulted out into midair. He landed square upon the beast's shoulders then raced down its body without wasting a second. The powerful tail lashed as he drew near but he was already leaping off using the Force to propel him forward. Landing catlike he ran on. Three hundred meters to go. The light from the doorway filled his vision.

The beast was in pursuit again. Pounding along behind him. A set of swift claws swiped by and forced Obi-Wan to the side. The tail swung round whipping at his feet. Obi-Wan leaped into the air. Nevertheless this time one of the monster's barbs grazed his lower leg. Obi-Wan gasped as the shallow wound began to burn like fire. He landed awkwardly and barely missed being gored by the monster's fore claw's.

Limping Obi-Wan threw himself behind the nearest piece of cover he could find, an overturned sheet of metal that would hide him for a few seconds. But only a few. The creature's eyesight was poor but its sense of smell incredible. Obi-Wan landed collapsed down behind the metal. His leg was on fire and he gritted against the pain, releasing as much as he could into the Force. Blood had begun to seep through the fabric of his trousers. He turned away from it. The creature was drawing nearer he only had a few moments. His mind raced.

Just then a glint of metal half buried caught Obi-Wan's eye. Sparing a glance his heart leaped as he recognised the hilt of a vibroshiv. Its blade was buried deep in the ground and Obi-Wan shifted over to tug it out of the floor. The weapon had rusted slightly but the tip was still sharp. Obi-Wan didn't know where it had come from, whether it had been left deliberately for a luck competitor or dropped there by a previous victim, but right now he didn't care. He clutched the hilt to him in a determined grip. It was a laughable weapon to the monster back there but right now Obi-Wan would take what ever he had got.

A scaled hand dropped over the metal sheet, slamming to the ground next to where Obi-Wan was sitting. Heart stopped in his chest Obi-Wan leaped up. Or would have done if the hem of his tunic had not been nailed to the ground by a razor sharp claw. Panic at being trapped tore through him and he tugged frantically at the cloth bringing his new found weapon round to hack at it. But the rusted edge refused to cut. The scaled leg retracted and dragged Obi-Wan out with it, lifting him into the air like a helpless piece of meat. Vibroshiv was useless but where that failed the razor sharp claws succeeded. The cloth supporting Obi-Wan's weight shredded and he tumbled back to earth, hitting the ground hard at the feet of his enemy. He tried to get up or roll aside but quick as he was, this time the beast was quicker and it pinned Obi-Wan beneath a brutally heavy hand. Obi-Wan choked and wheezed as he felt his ribcage creak. In the distance the crowd was screaming. "Kralti! Kralti!" The death chant.

The maw of the beast's gaping mouth descended.

_No. Not now!_ Obi-Wan's mind screamed and the hand holding the vibroshiv acted on its own accord. Blindly he stabbed at the restraining claws, sinking the blade in as hard his leverage would allow.

The scream of pain and surprise that came from the Fire Dragon in that moment almost lifted the rafters. The hand crushing Obi-Wan to the floor tore away, leaving a trail of thick green blood. It howled again and before Obi-Wan could react or save himself, the wounded creature lashed out. Its other foreclaw struck, hitting Obi-Wan full on. The impact knocked him out cold and he wasn't aware of anything else until his body smashed into the nearest wall. Hell fire chewed up his arm from his right hand. Blinded by pain Obi-Wan landed.

He knew before he looked that his right hand was shattered. The vibroshiv was gone.

His vision hazed grey, and he fought against unconsciousness. Tears slid down his face from the sheer agony he was experiencing. He almost screamed as he tried to shift. Two of his ribs were also broken. The Force skittered from his tenuous grasp. But he knew if he fell he would never wake. He had to get back up. His thoughts hazed.

He had to be here when Qui-Gon found him. Qui-Gon. Gasping for breath he remembered his Master. His Master would get back up. And he could reach for him if only he could get out of this place. His Master was out there. He knew it. Raw determination trickled through Obi-Wan's broken body. He drew a breath, then another. The Force started to come bit more easily. Pain sliced him, threatening his concentration but he refused to let it win. With a titanic effort he released much of his pain to the Force then used its all encompassing power to support him. Still he knew this was going to _hurt._

Biting his bottom lip, Obi-Wan cradled his ruined right hand to his chest. With the other he braced himself against the wall and began to Force himself upwards. Shear white agony was all he knew. He felt his ribs shift slightly and he didn't register the blood trickling down his chin as his teeth sank deep into his bottom lip. It seemed to take an eternity to get upright. But finally he was.

Swaying slightly, Obi-Wan pushed away from the wall. Staggering round he looked for his enemy's whereabouts with swirling vision. The monster was still crouched in the middle of the room nursing its wounded hand. Obi-Wan could sense its shock. He doubted anything had ever harmed it before. And he had paid dearly for being the first to do so. Turning his attention away he began to look for his destination. He could barely think straight. Blackness still taunted him on every movement, but he forced it to clear through shear force of will. He experienced a short thrill as he realised how close his goal was. The Fire Dragon had thrown him a long way. The door of his escape lay not fifty meters from where he stood.

Not far if he had been whole. But now…

A shift snapped his eyes round to the hunched beast in the center. Its eyes were searching again. Tongue tasting. Fury burned inside. And Obi-Wan suddenly knew without a doubt that he must get out. Now. Very carefully he began to edge along the wall, placing his feet so as not to make a sound. His eyes never left the creature once. It still hadn't discovered his whereabouts. Obi-Wan quickened his steps, using the Force heavily to drown out the worst of his crippling pain. He might just make it.

Thirty meters to go and he felt the creature's attention shift. It was getting closer to finding him. His mind screamed at him to just abandon all caution and _run_ But he knew as soon as he made a sudden move while the beast was facing this way he would be found. It couldn't be allowed to find him. But time was running out. He would have to break cover soon. If only there was a way to distract the creature just for a few seconds.

Desperately Obi-Wan cast around until an idea struck him. With nothing else at his disposal he gathered the Force in and then released it in a small hard pulse. The remains of the box he had left behind in what seemed like hours ago suddenly gave a short sharp rattle. The dragon's head whipped round and Obi-Wan held his breath. A snarl grumbled through its body. But it didn't move. Biting his lip in concentration and tasting the bitter tang of blood Obi-Wan now focused his power on the beast's primitive mind. Implanting and image of himself standing next to the decoy box. He manipulated the creature's sensitive smell receptors as well. It was a complicated stunt and it was almost beyond him. Using all of his effort he bent his will upon the beast's mind. _Go. Go over there_, he pleaded. He only had to get it going the other way.

The snarl turned into a full growl as the dragon began to lumber towards the box. The smell of human and revenge thick in its nostrils. Its pace picked up.

It was now or never. Keeping his deception going for just a few more precious seconds. Obi-Wan began to run. He did not look back to see if the beast was still going towards the box. He released its mind at the last possible second and put all his concentration into sprinting as fast as his body would allow.

He was ten meters from the gap in the wall when the teeth of his nemisis closed around his leg. Obi-Wan felt his heart burst in his chest as the razor sharp points ripped into his flesh and lifted him from the ground. The Force fled his grasp as terror and new burning pain tore through him, robbing him of thought. All he knew was that he had failed and now he would die. Acidic poison began to burn into his leg.

But Obi-Wan had been so long without the Force now that his basic reflexes had been honed to get along without it. In a desperate bid to survive he kicked out with his free leg and struck the beast that held him hard in the eye. The only vulnerable part. The beast snorted in pain and the teeth loosened slightly, though they did not let go. But it gave Obi-Wan the breathing room that he needed. Shear adrenaline pumped through his body as he pulled the Force back to him, searching. He had but moments. Then he found it. A tug and his lost vibroshiv flew to his left hand.

Obi-Wan didn't hesitate. He swung up and drove the blade into the creature's eye.

The resulting shriek was terrible to hear. The jaws opened as the dragon reeled back. Obi-Wan dropped to the floor once more and lay dazed and gasping. He dared not look at the mess his left leg was in, the numbness told him enough. The creature thrashed and scraped its claws in the earth, then it surged back hunting for its enemy. Obi-Wan staggered onto his good leg, the other would barely hold his weight. He could not escape the beast. He was crippled completely now.

But only in body. His near brush with death had left his mind strangely clear. A burst of flame shot up between him and the monster and the information that he had filed away at the start of all of this came back to him in clear definition. It gave him his last chance. It was reckless and dangerous and might well result in his own death, but so be it. He had run out of options. Grim determination etched his face as the dragon came for him one last time. Obi-Wan seized the Force and grabbed hold of the pipes just beneath the earth where his enemy stood. Quickly he found the mechanism that ignited the gas and bent it inwards, then he turned and fled as fast as his limping would allow. The beast started after but it was too late for it now.

Obi-Wan was five meters from the open doorway when the explosion hit. Flames erupted from the ground burning and destroying, the sound was deafening. Obi-Wan felt the heat lick his back and desperately he called upon the Force one last time, throwing himself towards the waiting door as the shock wave of the explosion struck and accelerated his journey.

Pain tore through his exhausted and broken body as he blasted out pit on the crest of the inferno. But only one thing mattered to him now. Just before blackness claimed him Obi-Wan threw all his remaining power into one long and desperate cry.

_/Master!!!/_

tbc


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter 11**_

"Obi-Wan is alive."

Qui-Gon gave them no warning, no coddling words to pad the blow. There was no time for any of that as he faced the entire Council with a flat stare.

The resulting wave of surprise and confusion ran like wildfire around the room. Qui-Gon tucked his hands into the opposing sleeves and weathered it out, forcing patience. He was standing, here, now, before the entire Council, simply out of courtesy. If it wasn't for that he would have been long gone already, flying across the galaxy, tearing it apart in the search for his Padawan. Each second lost was excruciating. But he forced himself to remain, a veneer of calm locked in place. It wouldn't last long, however. It had taken him the best part of an hour to gather even this small amount of control, ever since that sudden and unexpected incident in his quarters that had brought him back to life.

Obi-Wan was out there. Obi-Wan needed him. He had felt it, and his world had been reborn from ashes. His eyes closed briefly at the enormity of it all and it might have over taken him once more had Mace not spoken.

"Qui-Gon…" There was an unusual hesitancy in the typically stern Councillor's voice and Qui-Gon bristled at the undercurrent of sympathy beneath it. "Obi-Wan is gone. We felt it. You felt it. You need…"

"I need nothing more than information, Master, and a fast ship. My Padawan is not dead. He is out there, I've sensed him, and I intend to go to him." The veneer was already cracking. It was now the sole need for information that kept him in place. For even in his fraught state of mind, some part of his brain still registered the fact that it would be foolish to go flying across the galaxy with no leads. He could look for Obi-Wan forever and not find him. Unacceptable. Which meant he would have to bang his head against the proverbial wall that was the Council.

The next exchange, however, almost had him walking out of the door regardless, the bitter tang of fury upon his tongue.

"And why should we provide all of this for you, Master Jinn?" Yarael Poof asked. "You believe we should pull on our resources just because of a 'feeling' you had from a Padawan who's been certified as dead for three months?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon's eyes were like flints of ice.

"Do you have any evidence? Can you sense him now?"

Qui-Gon almost growled. "No. The connection is gone again. I can't explain it," he finished grudgingly.

Poof sat back in his chair as if Qui-Gon's words had just settled his point. "Hmmm. You have had a traumatic time these last few months, Master Jinn," he began, tone condescending. Qui-Gon felt a flicker of pride for his control in that moment when the other Master remained safely unaware of how close he was coming to strangulation. Poof was making it clear he thought Qui-Gon was insane. "Maybe we misjudged your recovery from your loss. You were very close to your Padawan. You're finding it hard to let go and its interfering with your sense of things. It might be a good idea to visit one of the soul healers. They could…"

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes and Mace, hitherto content to sit out the exchange, cut in. "Tell us what happened, Master Jinn," he said quickly, sensing the danger.

Qui-Gon's eyes continued to bore holes in Poof for a few moments longer, before he turned away and drew together some of his shattered composure, breathing deeply. As quickly as he could he filled the Council in on what had happened to him in his quarters. How he had been planning to sort through Obi-Wan's belongings and how he'd then been hit by the Force equivalent of a lightning bolt. He did his best to convey what he had felt from his brief contact with his Padawan. He had to convince them of what he was so certain of in his own heart. He was not losing his mind. Obi-Wan was alive. The call had been real. So real. And distressed. Obi-Wan, wherever he was, was in danger. Qui-Gon's heart thudded. He did not know what threatened, the connection had been cut off abruptly as abruptly as it had come. Like it had never been.

But it had been and Qui-Gon hoped with all his heart that the new silence didn't mean that he was too late. He couldn't have lost Obi-Wan a second time. Poof's belief would be confirmed. His sanity would be indeed shattered if that was the case.

His need to be gone increased tenfold as he finished conveying his experience to the Council, praying that they would make this easy for him. He focused on Mace but only found continued scepticism in the dark depths of the other Master's eyes. He should have known better.

"Qui-Gon," Mace said, and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "You must understand that this is very hard for us to believe. Obi-Wan has been gone for a long time now, you yourself said your bond with him was cut the minute the senator's ship blew. No other sense of him has been found in the Force since then. Your grief has been terrible. Now you enter out of the blue, claiming Obi-Wan is alive based on nothing more than a brief flash of presence after leaving his room. A place you avoided until now. A place soaked in his old Force signature." He let the words hang for a minute. "I'm sorry, Master Jinn, but if what you felt was real and not just an echo in the Force, how is it no other felt such a massive disturbance. No Master on this Council sensed any such thing."

Qui-Gon balled his hands into tight fists to prevent himself from trembling. "Because, with respect, this Council has become nothing more than a gathering of blind fools." He ignored the collective shock around him. He didn't care right now. "You don't know how to listen any longer, hobbled as you are by your narrow mindedness."

"Master Jinn!" Now there was a bite of anger in Mace's measured tone. "If you think--"

"Enough. Silent you both will be!" The command stopped them all in their tracks, edged with quiet steel. Qui-Gon turned to Yoda, who had sat quiet and pensive up till now. He had no idea what the ancient Master was thinking. But he would fight him too if he had to.

Yoda seemed to sense his thoughts and gave him a piercing stare. "Respect for this Council you [i]will[/i] have, Qui-Gon," he said, before turning to Mace. "Achieve nothing, this bickering does. Going Master Jinn is, whether we grant permission or not." Here he cast Qui-Gon another level stare. "Give him what he needs, we might as well. Keep him out of more trouble, it might."

"What do you see in all of this, Master?" Adi Gallia asked.

"Matter that does not," Yoda stated, still staring at Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon shook his head in confirmation. Even Master Yoda's opinion mattered little to him now. As the old Master had wisely pointed out: he was going. He just hoped Yoda would convince the rest to give him what he needed.

Yoda turned back to Mace and locked eyes with him. Qui-Gon watched with tense fascination as their wills moved back and forth until Mace sighed and laced his fingers together in resignation. "It is decided. Master Jinn," he looked at Qui-Gon coolly. "If you insist upon this course of action, the Council will use our contacts in the Senate to secure you a ship."

Qui-Gon bowed his thanks.

"As for information, Master Rilgora and his Padawan are heading the investigation for the destruction of Senator Belar's ship. They are currently in the mid Rim following some promising leads. Their last report placed them on Tylon, a small planet in the Yarin sector of the mid Rim. The coordinates will be entered in your transport's navi com. Be waiting in the hanger bay in two hours. May the Force be with you."

The dismissal was curt, clear and swift. Mace wanted him gone from the Council's collective sight and to quit wasting their time and resources on what he considered to be a complete folly.

Qui-Gon did not care. He was going after his Padawan and now he had the means to do so. The opinion of the Council was as inconsequential as a leaf against a storm. He bowed swiftly and turned on his heel. Leaving the Council Chamber he set a swift clip that no one would dare interrupt.

As he headed back to his quarters, he used the time to create a list of everything he would need. Unlike a sanctioned mission, he had no idea what he would be walking into or where his path may lead. In such cases it was always best to expect the worst and he had no intention of being caught short when his Padawan's life was at stake.

_His Padawan's life..._ the words threatened to whip Qui-Gon's already flayed emotions into a storm again. He had never thought to have such concerns again.

Focus.

He would have to visit the Temples quartermasters. Survival equipment went without saying. For hot and cold environments. Medical supplies, for as much as he wanted to shy away from the thought, the fact that Obi-Wan may be gravely injured was a very real possibility. Extra rations. Water packs.

The list was still growing when he reached his quarters at last. Without a second thought he snatched up his survival pack and his usual basics, changes of clothes. Last of all he checked the power cell on his lightsaber. That done he turned to leave, but found himself paused by Obi-Wan's door. For a long moment he just stared at the flat grey entrance before making up his mind.

Opening the door he disappeared silently inside.

*~*~*

_Where is that blasted ship?!_

Qui-Gon stood waiting impatiently in the Temple's hanger bay. He had already been here for fifteen minutes and there was still no sign of the ship he had been promised. Time weighed heavily on him. His eyes flitted across the vast hanger bay at each of the other vessels docked in the various ports or resting upon the polished floor as repairs were carried out. For a brief, insane moment he considered if it would be worth hijacking one of them, anything so he could be on his way. And just as swiftly he dismissed the foolish thought.

Patience. The ship would be here. Delays were inevitable, this was Coruscant after all. Breathing deeply, he let the air, laced with the sharp scent of fuel and grease, filter slowly down into his body. Then he released it, and with it went some of his tension. But not all. Never all. Ever since the explosion on that accursed landing pad peace had been a distant memory to Qui-Gon, and now that he knew Obi-Wan still lived it was like there was a fire burning inside of him. The ache to have his Padawan back would not let him rest and underlying it all was the terrible sense that he was running out of time.

Hissing silently between his teeth, Qui-Gon shifted the heavy survival packs on his shoulder for the hundredth time. Where was that ship?

A flash of silver caught his eye and suddenly there it was. He knew not what kind of ship it was but he knew it was the one, and for Qui-Gon it seemed like the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld. All sleek, clean lines accentuated in black and silver, here at last was the vessel that would carry him to his Padawan. He watched as the ship made a graceful arc and came to rest in its assigned bay. The landing cycle completed with a sigh of engines and the ramp immediately began to lower. The opening doorway beckoned Qui-Gon forward.

"Master Qui-Gon. Wait a moment."

_No!_

Qui-Gon did not conceal the strangled cry that came to his throat. Master Yoda could _not_ be stopping him now. The Senate pilot who had delivered the ship was already descending the ramp, waiting for the one who would take it off his hands.

Qui-Gon froze. Had it been _anyone_ else he would have just carried on walking, taken the codes from the pilot and blasted off into space without a backwards glance. But Master Yoda had held his utmost respect since before he could walk. The instinct to obey the soft request was so deeply ingrained that it could not be ignored, no matter how the rest of his heart screamed at him to just _go_. Cursing under his breath, Qui-Gon turned round.

Surely enough his eyes came to rest on the diminutive Master standing a few paces away.

Yoda regarded him silently. Large green eyes filled with infinite patience. Qui-Gon could not guess what was going on behind that heavy gaze but he wished the old Master would hurry up and state his purpose. His patience was sadly crushed.

"Hmph." Yoda uttered softly, lifting his unfathomable eyes to Qui-Gon. He tapped his gimer stick gently. Qui-Gon took the hint, settling himself on his knees before the other Master. Again he was the subject of an intense study.

Then Yoda spoke, his voice holding a strange note. "Sure you are, that what you heard was real?"

Qui-Gon blinked and stared hard at him for a second then gave one decisive nod. He believed it with every fibre of his being. He locked eyes with Yoda and held the other Master's gaze firm as the quiet study continued. Grey-green eyes searching blue.

Finally Yoda sighed. "Believe you, I do, my old crechling," he said, voice so soft it was barely audible.

Qui-Gon's heart contracted as he listened and then lifted. He hadn't realised until now what it meant for him to have someone else believe that Obi-Wan was alive. The faint shadows of doubt lurking in his mind vanished into thin air.

He smiled gratefully at the other Master, but Yoda remained unmoving and Qui-Gon did not know what else he was waiting for.

"Bring him home to us, you will."

Qui-Gon cocked his head slightly. That hadn't quite been a statement and he suddenly realised with a jolt what it was Yoda was seeking. It was his reassurance! The knowledge was like a whip crack, completely out of character as it was. Yoda feared for his Padawan. Genuinely. Qui-Gon had never known the other Master display anything but complete trust in the Force. But he had never really understood the strange connection that lay between Obi-Wan and the old troll. It didn't bother him, he was actually glad it was there. If it hadn't been for Yoda's fight to save Obi-Wan from the agri-corps, Qui-Gon would never have taken him as his Padawan and life as he knew it would have been very different indeed. And he was grateful.

Gently he reached out and laid a warm hand on Yoda's shoulder. Something he had never done before either. Never dared to, he admitted, but the former barriers between them had been shattered by this moment, united as they were in their concern for Obi-Wan. "I will bring him home, my Master," was all he could say, but his eyes conveyed all his fierce determination.

And Yoda nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Force be with you, my old Padawan," he blessed. Warmth brushed at Qui-Gon as the old Master turned and shuffled away, disappearing into the growing crowd. Qui-Gon watched until he was out of sight then pulled himself up. He realised he felt better, stronger now, as if Yoda had imparted to him some of his great strength. He smiled softly. _Thank you_ he thought. Then he was away. Wasting no more time he turned and went to his waiting ship.

The _Solar Wind_, he noted the name etched upon the side.

On greeting the pilot he was duly supplied with all the necessary codes for the small vessel. Thanking the man, Qui-Gon quickly made his way up the ramp, the clean smell of the ship filling his lungs as he walked through the short, crisp passage to the cockpit. Only one room lay aft of the pit, making living space cramped, but Qui-Gon paid no mind to it as he settled himself into the pilot's seat. It would suit his needs. Being uncomfortable would ensure he stayed sharp. He glanced down at the controls. The layout was strange but not complex and in minutes he had it committed to memory. He pushed a button and the engines fired. Qui-Gon felt the ship come to life beneath his hands, vibrating through his body with restrained power. It was like an animal straining at its leash, eager to be gone. He wasn't about to argue. Shoving the throttle forward he shot from the Temple's hanger bay and in seconds he was clearing Coruscant's upper atmosphere.

As soon as open space stretched on all sides, Qui-Gon quickly calculated the jump to the Yarin system and punched it in. Holding his breath he waited agonising moments until the navicom approved the route then hit the hyperdrive activation. The stars lurched and disappeared, giving way as the _Solar Wind_ was quickly enveloped in a dazzling blue blanket.

Releasing his captured breath, Qui-Gon relaxed back into his padded seat. He was finally on his way. For a few mindless moments he let the swirling phenomenon that was hyperspace mesmerise his weary gaze, taking the time to regain his lost centre before reaching down and drawing an item from his travel pack.

The soft brown folds of Obi-Wan's robe ran smoothly though his fingers as he pulled it to him, caressing the material and letting the familiar feel and scent fill his senses as the loneliness of space began to press in around him. Gazing at the precious bundle in his lap, Qui-Gon threw one thought out into the Force. He could no longer sense his Padawan, that was true, but he prayed to any gods that might be listening that Obi-Wan would somehow hear him and know.

_Hold on, my Padawan. I'm coming_

tbc…


End file.
